


Tough as Leather, Smooth as Velvet

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 7 (Megan Cousland / Revon Hawke / Alec Trevelyan) [15]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 147,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec Trevelyan is used to getting what he wants, so when Dorian Pavus spurns his advances, it's a big blow for his self-esteem. Yet, all is not lost, and with a little help from his trusted companions, he may still win the gorgeous mage's heart. In the meantime, Cullen and Cassandra are slowly beginning to realize that their feelings for each other go way beyond friendship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

"Good. You're finally here. Now help me close this thing." The mage spared only a brief glance for them before he lifted his staff again.

Alec nodded, his bow already in hand. Next to him, Cassandra snorted contemptuously, but he ignored her. He was far too intrigued by the scene unfolding in front of him.

To be honest, he had been expecting a trap. In his, admittedly short-lived, experience with the Inquisition, secret notes inviting him to meet people in hidden places usually meant trouble. And, he had no reason at all to trust Felix, friendly as the young man had seemed. He _was_ Magister Alexius' son, after all.

Instead, he found himself face to face with yet another rift - which was not a big surprise either. This, too, had become scarily familiar in the weeks since he'd awoken at Haven with a green mark on his palm that kept pulsing and wouldn't disappear. By now, it had almost become second nature to him to seek out the tears in the veil and help seal them. With the help of his trusted companions, he'd become quite adept at fighting demons, shades, and spirits. He still sometimes woke at night, bathed in sweat and shaking with fear when they visited him in his dreams, but by daylight, he could deal well enough.

But he definitely hadn't expected anything like the devastatingly handsome young mage, who was doing his best to hold back this particular infestation of Fade spirits, here in the Redcliffe Chantry building. There was little time to take a closer look at him, but even at first glance, Alec felt his pulse speed up, and not only with the excitement of the battle.

They immediately joined the fight. Cassandra rushed in headlong to attack a shade while Solas cast a barrier spell, and Alec and Varric fell into a firing stance, keeping well back. Most of the time, Alec was glad to be an archer rather than a melee fighter, like Cassandra. He much preferred to stay at a little distance from their foes, if only to avoid their stench. The stranger easily fell into step next to them, and together they finished off their opponents without too much of an effort. The rift closed with a satisfying 'pop' and suddenly the room was eerily quiet.

Alec took his time approaching the stranger, watching him from the corner of his eye while he slung his bow over his shoulder and went looking for reusable arrows. Threnn would appreciate it if he took good care of the supplies she'd procured for him. He also took the time to sift through the demons' remains, mindful of what Minaeve had told him. If he could find anything at all that would help them fight the monsters, it would be worth getting his fingers covered in demon innards.

The stranger waited, shifting impatiently from one foot to the next. Maker, but he was really quite stunning! Dark hair and a daring little moustache, an aristocratic nose, golden skin and well-muscled arms, set off to best advantage by his choice of armour, a leather outfit that left his left shoulder bare. And, as Alec noticed when he finally stopped to face him, a pair of beautiful grey eyes, with long, silky lashes, expressive and intelligent. _Oh yes._ Definitely worth a second look.

Yet, when he addressed him, the mage seemed more interested in his mark than in Alec himself. "Fascinating! How does it even work?" His eyes were glued to Alec's palm.

For a moment, he was lost for an answer, and the stranger just went on talking in a patronizing tone, discussing the mark's properties as if he wasn't there. Alec felt his hackles rise. _Does he take me for a stupid country oaf?_ It took some effort to remain civil.

"And you are…?" He allowed the merest hint of a reproach to enter his tone.

To his credit, the stranger immediately picked up on it. "Of course. Please forgive my manners. Dorian of House Pavus, most recently from Minrathous. Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable."

Alec blinked once. A mage from Tevinter, with a close connection to Magister Alexius. No matter what he said, he was likely to be more of a liability than an asset. But then again, many people would have thought the same of young Alec Trevelyan, youngest son of a minor noble family, who had spent his youth roaming the Free Marches with his buddies rather than attending balls and tourneys. He'd never missed a single archery contest, though.

"So you're a magister." Alec knew it was a stupid thing to say the moment the words left his lips. Gelert, his tutor back home, would have been livid. The old man had spent hours drilling the details of Tevinter society into him. _Just because a man is a mage and from Tevinter, he's not automatically a magister, young Master Alec. Just as not every nobleman from Ferelden is a teyrn._

Of course the stranger wasted no time in setting him right. An _altus_ , no more and no less, a mage from the highest ranks of nobility, but no member of the _magisterium_. But then Alec had guessed he was high-born anyway, from the way he spoke, crisp and clear and with immense confidence. There was something oddly theatrical about his delivery, though. Every word appeared selected and placed for maximum effect, accompanied by grand gestures and meaningful looks. Maybe that was just the way people conversed in Tevinter, but it irritated Alec beyond measure.

"Stop talking like you're waiting for applause." The words slipped out before he could stop himself, and he just about managed to turn them into a jest by adding a slightly strained smile.

Really, his parents would have been appalled by his rudeness. Though, in all probability, his father would have made a cutting remark about _effeminate behaviour_ himself, but of course he'd have restricted his observations to a more private occasion.

Pavus' eyebrow cocked the slightest bit, but then he settled for a brief chuckle, apparently ready to let the matter rest. Alec felt a brief surge of relief. Though why he should care so much what this stranger thought of him… Or why he should have let the man's demeanour get to him in the first place… It was anybody's guess, really. He was probably just tired out.

"Tell me what's going on." Again, he flinched at his own brusqueness. "Please", he added with a winning smile.

To his surprise, Pavus appeared rattled for a moment, but he quickly recovered and came to the point with admirable swiftness. What he told Alec was hard to believe at first. A magister who had mastered time travel? Who had actually managed to arrive here _before_ the Inquisition could intervene by going back in time?

They would have to act, and soon. They couldn't just let Alexius go through with his plans. Still, they would have to discuss the news before they made such a far-reaching decision. Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana would have a thing or two to say about the situation, though by now Alec felt that he could predict with a fair amount of certainty how each of his advisors would react. Pavus himself was certainly eager to join them and to get away from Redcliffe.

Alec glanced over at Cassandra, trying to gauge what she was thinking. Was it wise to allow this stranger access to their headquarters? The Seeker looked just as sceptical as he felt, but when she noticed his questioning glance, she nodded, almost imperceptibly. _Good_. He knew from experience that going against Cassandra's wishes tended to be more trouble than it was worth.

"Time to return to Haven then." He made an inviting gesture. " _Altus_ Pavus."

"Call me Dorian, please." Pavus made a face. "I'd rather not have my title thrown around more than necessary in these parts. Fereldans don't like to be reminded that they have one of those horrible _Vints_ in their midst."

"As you wish, Dorian." Alec smiled again. "Welcome to the Inquisition."

* * *

"Herald." The pale red-haired woman smiled wryly at Trevelyan, inclining her head in the mere suggestion of a bow. "You're back early."

"Leliana." Trevelyan nodded at her with a good-natured grin. "No need to act surprised. I'm sure your scouts knew the exact time of my arrival before I did so myself."

Dorian regarded her with renewed interest. _In charge of the scouts, is she? And obviously well-informed._ He would have to watch his steps around this one.

And indeed the woman – Leliana – was watching him warily, even as she addressed herself to the Herald. "We've been awaiting your return. There are several important issues we have to discuss." Her green eyes missed nothing, and when they fell on Dorian it was as if they could see right into his soul. "I see you've brought more company."

Trevelyan nodded. "This is Dorian Pavus. He has interesting information on Magister Alexius. And he's handy in a fight." Another quick smile was directed at him, and Dorian's heart did an odd little jump. "Will you take care of him?" He turned to leave, heading for a tall stone building that had to be the Chantry.

"Of course." A quick tilt of Leliana's head, a small gesture, and two elven runners set off in different directions.

 _One of them to have my quarters prepared, while the other one is checking up on my background, probably._ Against his will, Dorian was impressed.

"We will talk later, Ser Pavus, once you've had a chance to clean up and rest a bit. I'd love to get to know you better and hear about your plans." Her tone was light, but Dorian wasn't fooled for a moment. _I bet you would._ "The Herald needs more people he can rely on. Trustworthy people." The implied warning was unmistakable, despite the pleasant smile on Leliana's face.

Dorian didn't mind. He was actually enjoying himself, more than he had since coming to the South. "What a stroke of luck that I came along, then, isn't it?" He pretended to yawn. "Now, you mentioned resting…"

They assigned him a simple wooden house close to the Chantry. With a deep sigh, Dorian dropped his bundle on the narrow cot. It was more of a hut than a house, really, a far cry from his luxurious quarters back home. No panes in the windows, no carpet, no plumbing - just a pump in the backyard and a simple wooden table and chair. Not even a proper bookshelf. On the bright side, there was a fire burning merrily in the hearth, with a generous supply of wood stacked next to it. The floorboards were rough, but at least there seemed to be nothing worse than mice below them, and the linens covering the straw bedding were plain, but immaculately clean. It would do.

Still, as he unpacked his few belongings and brushed out his clothes, he couldn't help but wonder what he was doing here, in the middle of nowhere. What was it about this _Herald of Andraste_ that had prompted Dorian Pavus to throw his lot in with him?

He hadn't appeared all that special at first sight. Just another good-looking young buck from the Free Marches, of noble ancestry but little consequence. _Really, really good-looking. Positively gorgeous, in fact_ , a treacherous voice in his mind supplied. With a shrug, Dorian conceded the point, allowing himself to dwell for a moment on the man's appearance.

 _Alec Trevelyan._ Thick honey blond hair, cool blue eyes – quite a striking contrast with his tanned face. A handsome face, despite the pale eyebrow scar marring its perfection, or maybe because of it. A lean body, clad in plain leathers, muscular without being bulky. Add to that the way he moved, with such lithe and sinuous grace, and his voice, firm and cultivated, with the merest hint of a soft, burring accent… Yes, there was no point in denying it. Dorian had fallen for that particular type too often to fool himself now.

Not that there was any reason to suppose the attraction was mutual. After all, as the son of a staunch Marcher squire, Trevelyan was likely to be a good Andrastian, wholesome and hearty, and almost certainly not inclined to less… palatable preferences. He was probably promised to some buxom wench from a neighbouring manor already, and perfectly happy about it, too.

Except... the way he had looked at Dorian when they had first met had indicated more than just curiosity, and the smile he'd flashed him when they'd parted had been a little too wide to be just friendly. Or was he imagining things?

Firmly, Dorian told himself to stop that line of thought. He hadn't come to this Maker-forsaken, rain-drenched excuse for a country to pursue amorous adventures. There would be time enough for such idle diversions when the evil threatening all of Thedas was defeated. And anyway, Trevelyan wasn't just an exotic delicacy to be sampled. Even from what little he had seen of him so far, Dorian was sure the man deserved more than that.

He was glad he'd met Trevelyan. For the first time in years, there appeared to be someone he could work with, someone he could follow into battle, maybe even someone he could call a friend one day. _Ah, well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?_ He chuckled dryly.

A sharp knock on the door tore him from his thoughts.

"Messere?" The slim elven servant girl gazed at him with wide eyes, trembling with barely concerned fear.

 _She's probably afraid I will put her in chains and bleed her dry while I have carnal congress with a desire demon._ Dorian just barely suppressed an annoyed eye roll. "What is it?"

"If it please you, messere, the Herald requests your presence at his War Council." The kid's voice was shaky enough to awaken a vestige of pity in Dorian's chest. "I am to show you the way."

Dorian nodded, doing his best to sound non-threatening. "Wait outside, child. I'll be with you in a moment."

When the girl had bowed out, knocking over Dorian's boots in her haste to retreat, he allowed himself a deep sigh, wearily rubbing his face before he reached for his coat. A glance into his small shaving mirror, a few quick strokes of the brush, and he was ready to face the Southerners once again.

Or at least as ready as he would ever be.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Herald's War Council wasn't quite as impressive as its name suggested.

The servant had led Dorian to a small room at the back of Haven's chantry building. Looking around, he found it hard to hide his disdain. This chamber wouldn't have been deemed suitable as a dog kennel back in Minrathous: bare stone walls; a threadbare carpet covering huge flagstones; clunky wooden furniture. What light there was came from open, smoking braziers and a few dripping candles, and it was barely enough to illuminate the maps and documents spread out on the massive central table. A few rather non-descript statues looked down on the people assembled around the table with expressions of bored indifference.

So far, this place was much like all the others Dorian had seen in Ferelden: damp, smelly, primitive. Yet, it wouldn't do to underestimate this _Inquisition_. If nothing else, their fighting skills were impressive, and if the Herald proved charismatic enough, this shabby little enterprise might well turn into something altogether more relevant.

When Dorian arrived, Alec Trevelyan was bent over the map with two of his advisors, his handsome face marred by a worried frown. Cassandra, on his left, was looking grim, and the man on his right looked hardly less forbidding. He looked Fereldan, with blond, curly hair and pale skin, and he was wearing heavy armour, just like the Lady Seeker. The shaggy fur coat he'd thrown over his broad shoulders made him look even more threatening. When he raised his head and noticed Dorian, his hazel eyes narrowed and his scarred mouth turned up in a brief sneer, though he immediately collected himself.

"You're the magister." He raised himself to his full, impressive height.

Dorian opened his mouth to set him right, but then decided it wasn't worth the bother. Cassandra noted his reaction, and he was almost sure he saw a smile tug at her lips for a moment.

"This is Dorian Pavus, Cullen, an _altus_ from Tevinter. He thinks he can help us deal with Magister Alexius." The Seeker sounded vaguely sceptical, but at least not overtly hostile. "Dorian, meet Commander Cullen. He's in charge of the Inquisition's Forces. You have already met Leliana, I believe. Our spymaster." She gestured toward the red-haired woman in the corner of the room, who nodded quietly.

"And I am Lady Josephine Montilyet, chief diplomat of the Inquisition." Another woman stepped forward from the shadows.

She was beautiful, Dorian noticed in a detached manner, with dark skin, luscious black hair and soulful hooded eyes. She spoke with a heavy Antivan accent, and she was exceedingly well dressed, in a tasteful silk ensemble that wouldn't have looked out of place in Orlesian court circles. _Finally someone a little more civilized_.

Dorian favoured her with his most dazzling smile and a flawlessly executed bow. "Dorian Pavus, my lady. I am charmed to make your acquaintance."

Josephine returned the smile, though her eyes remained wary. _Interesting. This one has played the game before_. Well, whatever else could be said about the Herald's circle of advisors, they certainly weren't boring.

Dorian cleared his throat. "Now, about the situation in Redcliffe…"

The Herald himself, who had kept in the background while they made their introductions, grew a little more animated during the discussion that followed. Dorian watched with interest how he dealt with the tangle of opposing opinions, listening to each advisor in turn with an attentive expression that effectively hid his own true feelings, never quite taking anyone's side but giving them all the impression that their counsel was valued.

Trevelyan seemed to have a knack for reading people and telling them what they wanted to hear. A useful trait for a leader, no doubt, but Dorian couldn't help but wonder if his course was guided by anything other than the wish for a compromise that wouldn't offend anyone. In his experience, no leader could forever avoid stepping on someone's toes. _Sometimes what's necessary is also painful_.

Still, for the time being it was a successful strategy, even if Cullen wasn't too happy that the Inquisition was siding with the mages rather than the Templars. Together, they assessed the situation and worked out a plan. According to Josephine, Magister Alexius had invited the Herald for a meeting. It was most likely a trap, but at the same time a perfect opportunity for Leliana's agents to infiltrate the castle. If Alexius' attention was taken up by the Herald's visit-

"So all you need me to do is look pretty and distract the evil magister." Trevelyan grinned, batting his eyelashes. "I can do that."

_Oh, I don't doubt it_. Dorian just barely stopped himself from nodding in assent. _Though I don't think Alexius will appreciate your charms_. "Don't underestimate Alexius," was all he said aloud. "The magic he's using is wildly unstable, and if we can't stop him-"

"Let me guess. It's the end of the world again." Trevelyan sighed deeply. "Right. As long as I have Cassandra and Varric with me, Alexius doesn't scare me. You will join us, too, I hope?" He raised his head and looked directly at Dorian for the first time, somehow managing to appear anxious and optimistic at the same time.

Dorian felt his heart speed up immediately. _Maker, I need to get this under control, and soon_. He was only going to embarrass them both if he kept this up. Especially since Trevelyan had now turned to Josephine and was directing his charm at her. The ambassador visibly preened under his gaze, tilting her head coquettishly, and Dorian's stomach contracted. They looked so relaxed together. Were they-

But no, it was none of his business. He was here to fight Alexius. No other reason.

* * *

Cullen rubbed his neck wearily. This was going to be a long night. The preparations for their sneak attack on Redcliffe Castle would probably keep him awake until dawn, and lack of sleep always made the craving for lyrium that much stronger. He grit his teeth.

Cassandra gave him a worried glance from the corner of her eye, and he tried to smile reassuringly at her. But of course she wasn't fooled. The Lady Seeker had sharper eyes than most, and she’d gotten to know him well in the months since he'd left Kirkwall with her to join the Inquisition.

“Cullen?” Her voice with its harsh Nevarran accent was barely audible. “Are you all right?”

He sighed, just barely suppressing the urge to yawn. “I can handle it," he whispered back.

On the other side of the table, Leliana was taking the Herald and Pavus through the details of their plan. Cullen eyed the mage with considerable distrust. It was a habit that was hard to shake, and the fact that the man came from Tevinter did nothing to allay his fears. In the Gallows, he'd seen first-hand where blood magic and dealings with demons could lead, and he had no wish to harbour an abomination in their midst. Of course Pavus claimed to be different. Cullen almost snorted aloud. If he had a copper for every time a mage had claimed to be "not like the others", he'd have had enough money to buy the Winter Palace. _We shall see, soon enough._

Cassandra placed her hand on his wrist, her touch unobtrusive, as light as a feather. “Do you need my help with the preparations?”

He shook his head. “You ought to rest. If things don't work out as planned, you will need your strength.”

Cassandra made a dismissive noise, but didn't insist, and he was glad. Cullen had never told her, but he admired her very much, and he wanted her to be at her best tomorrow, in case things went sideways. Her fighting skills were beyond reproach, of course, but she, too, was only human and the smallest mistake could turn out to be her last when dealing with foes like theirs.

For a moment he wished he could join them, take his place at her side, at the Herald’s side, and fight with them. He was still an able warrior, even if he no longer had the use of his Templar abilities. _But could you keep up without them?_ a small, treacherous voice whispered in his mind. _Could you handle a powerful mage without a holy smite? Could you face demons without dispelling their magic_? He wasn't really sure, that was the truth of it. Some part of him wanted to ask Cassandra. She had sparred with him, she knew what he could and couldn't do. Yet, another part of him was too scared of her answer.

Though, knowing Cassandra, she probably wouldn't understand his problem either way. To her, it was perfectly obvious that he could serve the Inquisition’s interests better in his role of Commander, in charge of training up new recruits and directing troop movements. And of course she'd be right. He _was_ skilled at those things, logistics and strategy and whatnot, and he knew his companions respected him for it. Still, in moments like these, when they all got that excited look on their faces, he felt old and staid and all but useless.

They had finished their discussion now. Alec raised his hand to get their attention and smiled at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Dorian Pavus a tad longer than strictly proper. Cullen frowned. He would have to keep an eye on this. Alec was a nice lad, but far too young and inexperienced for the role they had assigned him. If he let himself be blinded by the Tevinter’s charm and looks-

“Let's retire. I need you all well rested tomorrow. We will show Alexius that the Inquisition is a force to be reckoned with.” The words rolled easily off the Herald’s tongue, and with his handsome face and dashing posture, he looked every inch the heroic leader they needed. _And maybe that will be enough._

Cullen forced his doubts and concerns to the back of his mind. “Sleep well, Herald. We will have everything in place for you tomorrow,” was all he said aloud.

Next to him, Cassandra nodded vigorously. _Yes_. They would handle this Magister Alexius. How bad could it be?

* * *

No matter how hard he tried, Alec couldn't bring himself to look at Leliana's ravaged face again. One glance had been enough to make him almost throw up. If he'd needed any motivation to deal with the Breach, this nightmare of a future he was caught in was more than sufficient.

He still wasn't sure he was actually awake. Maker, he didn't _want_ to be awake! If it hadn't been for Dorian, who had somehow managed to remain calm and reassuring through it all, he'd be huddled up in a corner by now, whimpering and begging for it to stop.

It hadn't been too bad at first. When Alexius had pulled that trick with the amulet, Alec had assumed that Dorian and he had simply been teleported to a lower level of the castle, forced to fight their way out. Which wasn't too scary a prospect, with his trusted bow in hand and a lethally dangerous mage by his side. The first few guards they'd met had easily been dealt with.

But then Dorian had put two and two together and surmised that they had travelled in time, too, and that was a different kettle of fish altogether. Especially once they had come across their companions, or what was left of them. Varric who had clearly lost his mind, Cassandra who had all but given up the fight before they’d come, and worst of all, Leliana, who had been tortured and mutilated beyond recognition.

Alec shuddered all over. His stomach churned and his hands were cold as ice, his fingers stiff and clumsy. He wondered if he would be able to handle his bow like this. Dorian was motioning for him to follow, but when he tried to he found he couldn't. It was as if he was frozen in place.

"Alec! Can you hear me?" Dorian's face wore an almost tender expression as he gripped his arm. "We'll be fine. We can prevent this, just as soon as we've found Alexius."

Alec was grateful for the mage's support. It was all a bit too much to take in. Just one year had passed in this world he'd suddenly found himself in, and nothing was the same. Empress Celene had been assassinated, a demon army was ravaging all of Southern Thedas, his friends and companions were gone… all in the name of this mysterious _Elder One_. He couldn’t let this happen, he simply couldn’t. He had to fight it. But when he attempted to move, his feet refused to obey him again. He made a small, distressed noise.

"Come on, Alec." Dorian's voice again, warm and firm. The mage's hand tightened around his wrist. "We can do this."

He nodded, to show he'd understood, and made a valiant attempt to smile. Dorian rewarded him with a smile of his own, and suddenly it all seemed irrelevant, all the death and despair surrounding them. There was just a pair of grey eyes meeting his, a familiar face, its beauty unspoilt by all the horrors, and Alec clung to Dorian's presence, as if it was a lifeline. _Yes. We can do this. Together._

"Let's go and find Alexius." He shook himself, and they set off towards the throne room.


	3. Chapter 3

It was weird to be back at Haven. Weird to watch Cullen and Cassandra spar, to hear them laugh companionably when one of them managed a particularly well-placed blow. Weird to see Leliana's youthful smile as she welcomed her scouts back, and to listen to Varric telling tall tales at the fireside again. Weird, but at the same time such an enormous delight, such a constant source of relief.

Alec kept finding excuses to wander around the place and talk to them all. For the most part he'd avoided telling people what he'd seen, that horrible vision of what would happen to them if they failed, if _he_ failed. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't let it happen, that he'd die rather than allow it. But for now, he simply couldn't get enough of seeing everything returned to normal. Rationally, he knew that defeating Alexius had only been a very small first step in vanquishing the ultimate evil, but it still gave him hope.

He walked past Grand Enchanter Fiona who was deep in conversation with several younger mages, but spared a friendly nod at him. Alec smiled tentatively back. Cullen and Cassandra had been mad at him when he'd offered the rebel mages a full alliance. He still felt bad about opposing them, but he'd had to make that decision on the spur of the moment, and he'd instinctively known that Dorian wouldn't want him to conscript the mages. It had seemed wrong to keep them on a leash, as if they couldn't be trusted to support the Inquisition of their own free will. And yet, it didn't make sense. How could he have risked alienating his most trusted advisors, just to gain favour with a mage from Tevinter?

Alec sighed. As usual, his feet had carried him to Dorian's quarters eventually. It was a warm and sunny day, so the mage was actually outside, saving him the agony of deciding whether to knock on the door or not.

"Dorian." Alec nodded at him, unsure of how to proceed.

Dorian had agreed to join the Inquisition permanently in the aftermath of the attack on Redcliffe, but at the same time, he seemed strangely distant and cool. It was as if he was a completely different person from the warm and caring friend who had helped Alec escape from the nightmare.

"My dear Herald!" The mage was smiling, but Alec felt his chest contract painfully. _He called me Alec in the castle. Why-_

"Such lovely weather!" Dorian's tone was glib and superficial. "It seems there _are_ days without rain or snowfall in Ferelden after all!"

"It's been known to happen." Alec took his refuge in dry sarcasm. "I hope everything has been arranged to your satisfaction?" He made a quick motion with his head in the direction of the house.

"Oh yes, yes. Really, the South is so charming and rustic. I adore it." Dorian's laugh sounded strained. "And hardly anyone accuses me of being an evil blood mage anymore."

Alec felt a sudden hot surge of rage. "Who-"

"No one of any importance." Dorian's voice immediately grew less affected. "I'm sorry, Herald. I shouldn't have bothered you with my petty grievances. You've got enough on your plate."

"I do, but…" Alec hesitated. _Maker, why is this so hard?_

He _yearned_ for Dorian to confide his sorrows in him, to look at him again the way he had during their shared ordeal, to touch him again like he had in the dungeons… _He was just doing what he had to, in order to keep you from falling apart. It doesn't mean a thing_.

"What about Alexius? And Felix? How are you dealing with their fate?" He tried to catch Dorian's gaze, but in vain.

"Alexius is no longer the man I used to admire. He betrayed us all by entering in an alliance with the Elder One. You, me, his own son. And Felix-" For a moment, a flash of real pain crossed Dorian's features. "He won't have to suffer very much longer, I believe."

"I'm so sorry." Alec swallowed hard. And then, because he simply _had_ to ask, he added shyly: "You and Felix, were you… lovers?"

"Maker, no!" Dorian sounded genuinely offended, and Alex could have slapped himself. "We were like brothers. I spent so many years in his father's household and it would never have occurred to me to think of him otherwise. But really, Herald…" His smiling mask was firmly back in place. "Let's not talk about me. It's such a boring subject. Isn't there anything else I can entertain you with? Wild tales about orgies in the back rooms of Minrathous perhaps? Or lurid stories of magisters gone bad?"

"Why not?" Alec shrugged. He didn't particularly care as long as he got to listen to Dorian's voice a little longer. _Oh dear. You have it bad, don't you?_ "Why don't we have a glass of wine in the tavern and you tell me all about it?"

"Let's do that." Dorian yawned and stretched, forcing Alec to avert his gaze to avoid staring too obviously. "Who knows, if I'm in your company, they may even refrain from spitting into my glass."

* * *

"Kaffas!" Dorian cursed under his breath, trying to rein in the spirited white mare Master Dennet had assigned to him in what was probably a subtle attempt on his life.

Several paces ahead, Alec was whispering endearments into the ears of his beautiful chestnut gelding who was following each of his cues without a moment's hesitation, as docile as a lamb. _Of course_ he's _not stuck with such an obnoxious nag. Oh no. Not the Herald._ Though, really, Dorian was honest enough to admit that the horse's good behaviour was just as much due to Alec's horsemanship, which was far superior to his own.

Besides, he certainly wasn't going to complain about the view. The opportunity to watch Alec's muscles flex in those tight leather pants was a gift from the Maker, no one would persuade him otherwise.

But why on Thedas did they have to trudge through the Hinterlands _again_? Dorian failed to see the attraction. As far as he was concerned, it was all bears, demons, bears, people asking them for petty favours, bears, and more bears. _Oh, and let's not forget the mages and Templars trying to kill each other before we get to them._ But according to Leliana's spies, a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall had set up camp somewhere around here, and she thought he might be a valuable addition to the Inquisition.

Behind him, Cassandra muttered something unintelligible in Nevarran when her bay stumbled over a root and nearly threw her. At least she wasn't much more comfortable on horseback than Dorian either. In contrast, Lady Vivienne was gracefully seated atop a glossy black Orlesian Charger, looking for all the world as if she'd been born in the saddle. It was unfair, really.

"Dorian, darling, would you mind going a little faster? We haven't got all day." Vivienne's bored drawl made him clench his teeth.

But he complied, digging his heels deeper into the mare's flanks. That earned him a sudden toss of her head, and he only narrowly avoided a broken nose. _Venhedis_! Dorian cursed again, wishing they had brought Sera or Varric instead. He admired Vivienne, both for her style and for her considerable skill at spellcasting, but sometimes her manner grated on his nerves. Especially since she rarely missed a chance to remind him of his own shortcomings.

At least his little manoeuvre had taken him closer to Alec, who greeted him with a smile. "Dorian. Not much farther to go, I believe. At any rate, there seems to be trouble ahead." He pointed at a small cottage by the lakeshore, right in front of them. "Maybe we should dismount."

Dorian eyed Alec's pleasant, open face with a fair amount of distrust. _Is this a pretext? Has he grown tired of watching me abuse the poor beast?_ But no, there _was_ a distant clanging of swords to be heard. "As you wish, Herald."

They got off the horses and left them in a little copse, guarded by Alec's war hound, a massive mabari aptly named Slobber. They approached the cottage carefully on foot, and found that Alec had been right. The Warden called Blackwall, a heavyset warrior whose overgrown hair and beard made it nigh impossible to focus on his features, was in the middle of teaching some unwashed bandits a lesson, and gladly accepted their help. Once the ruffians had been dealt with, Blackwall listened to their proposal, and readily agreed to join the Inquisition.

Dorian was glad. It would be good to have another strong sword-arm on their side when they were fighting demons. And more importantly, now that they'd found the Warden, they stood a good chance of returning quickly to Haven and its comforts, sparse as they might be.

Blackwall seemed a pleasant enough companion, despite his atrocious grooming habits. Of course, he wasn't particularly interesting either. That night, at the campfire, he tried talking to Dorian for a while after Vivienne had rebuffed him with her customary scathing wit, but the conversation soon petered out.

The silence was on the verge of becoming oppressive when Alec took pity on their new companion. "It's nice to meet a fellow Marcher out here." He inclined his head questioningly. "Markham, isn't it? A good place to call your home." Alec's own Marcher accent sounded a lot stronger than it usually did. _Clever. He probably figures it will put Blackwall at ease._

To Dorian's surprise, the Warden flinched a little, as if caught out in a lie, but then he laughed and nodded. "That's right. You have a good ear, Herald. But I haven't been back there in years. My home is with the Wardens now."

Alec nodded. "I'm from Ostwick myself. But I think if you went to Markham now, you wouldn't find it much changed. You know what they say in the Marches. _If it was good enough for granddad..._ "

" _It's good enough for me_ ," Blackwall finished with a chuckle. "True."

"Sounds like a thrilling place." Dorian cursed his inability to keep his mouth shut the moment the words left his lips.

But Alec just grinned, not at all offended. "You would die of boredom within a week, Dorian. But it has its charms. _Rustic_ , you know." He leaned back, stretching languorously and winking at Dorian, so quickly he wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it.

On the other side of the fire, Vivienne tutted in displeasure. "Surely not all that rustic, my dear Alec. The Trevelyans _are_ nobility after all."

"Very minor nobility, Lady Vivienne. My father is just a simple Bann." Alec flashed her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm well aware that compared to what you are accustomed to I'm a mere country bumpkin. You would find my home very humble, I'm sure."

"No need to be so modest." Dorian raised an eyebrow. "You know, I checked and I found a Trevelyan somewhere in my family tree. We are actually related."

Alec looked suddenly alarmed. "Really? How closely related?"

 _Ah, here we go again. The dreaded Tevinter association._ Dorian made an effort to smile. "Not all that closely. Several ages ago, in fact."

"Well, thank the Maker." Alec shook his head, reaching for his mug. "That would have been… awkward," he muttered.

"Yes, of course." Dorian laughed nervously. "Imagine having one of those beastly slave owning demon lovers in your family. Such an embarrassment."

"I didn't mean-" Alec broke off, and was he _blushing_? It was hard to tell in the dim light of the fire. "That's not what I meant. Anyway, it's been a long day." He got to his feet, brushing some leaves off his pants. "I think I'll have an early night."

Dorian watched him disappear into his tent with a puzzled frown. _What was that about?_

From across the fire, Vivienne gave him a quizzical look. Blackwall grunted a brief goodnight and disappeared into the dark as well.

Dorian remained sitting at the fire for a while after they had all gone to bed, brooding and ruminating. All this talk of _home_ had left him shaken. He didn't miss his old life, not any more. For all his complaints about the South, he had found a lot to appreciate here, and for the first time in his life, he knew he was doing something worthwhile.

But right now, staring into the flames all by himself, he felt terribly lonely.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain was coming down in a steady, relentless drizzle, as if the sky itself was intent on making them as uncomfortable as possible. By the time they returned to their camp on a small strip of beach on the Storm Coast, they were all thoroughly soaked, the fabric of their hoods clinging to their heads, and the leather of their armour damp and stiff, chafing their skin and adding to their misery.

With a deep sigh, Alec dropped down on a driftwood log near the fire, next to Scout Harding, and reached for a tin mug filled with tea. Harding glanced at him and moved a little to the side to make room, digging around in her pack to toss him some dry biscuits. Alec was glad for her company. As far as he was concerned, Harding's bright, cheerful little face was the single best thing about every new location his travels led him to. 

The Iron Bull had refused his offer of hospitality and was sharing a keg of ale with his band of mercenaries a little further down the beach. They were a rowdy bunch, but the Inquisition couldn't afford to be picky, and Alec had been genuinely impressed by their fighting abilities. Cassandra was making the rounds, checking up on the guards, and Dorian had immediately disappeared inside his tent, glaring up at the leaden sky with an expression of unadulterated disgust.

Stretching his legs, Alec took a careful sip from the mug. The tea was surprisingly good, strong and warm and sweet, and he didn't really mind the weather too much. Growing up in the Free Marches, getting drenched had pretty much been a given on any kind of outing, be it a hunt or any… shadier form of entertainment. He smiled fondly to himself at the memory of some of their more outrageous forays, wondering what the others were up to these days. Jed and Matt and Big Pete - had they settled down like good Marcher lads, taking care of their holdings and raising noisy broods of snot-nosed children? Or had they been killed by demons when the holes in the sky first appeared? It was not a pleasant thought.

Trying to shake off his darkening mood, Alec turned to Harding. "Any news from Haven?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. They probably figure you're busy enough with fighting darkspawn on top of the usual gaggle of demons."

Alec snorted but didn't reply. They sat for a moment in companionable silence until Harding nudged him in the side, grinning widely. "You brought him with you again."

"Who? Oh, you mean Dorian." Alec shrugged, doing his best to look unconcerned. "Yeah, why not? He's good. I like to have him by my side. In a _fight_ ," he added with an exasperated huff when he saw Harding's grin widen. "I mean, have you _seen_ that lightning spell he does? Clean fried three ghouls this morning, without even breaking a sweat."

"Uh-huh." Harding was still grinning. "And he's nice to look at, too."

"Is he?" Alec felt a grin of his own tug at his lips. "Well, now that you mention it..."

"Oh, come on!" Harding's eyes were gleaming with excitement now. "You do fancy him, don't you? Have you... talked to him?"

"I talk to him all the time." Alec yelped when her sharp little fist hit him in the ribs. "Ouch! No need to get violent."

"You know what I mean," Harding huffed impatiently. "Have you told him-"

"Of course not." Alec felt his good mood drain away. 

He _had_ flirted with Dorian, of course he had, smiled at him and stood a little too close, and straightened his armour for him... With anybody else, that would have earned him a tumble in the hay by now. Alec was well aware of his looks and charm, and it wasn't as if he'd ever had a problem getting what he wanted. But Dorian had kept him at arm's length, with flippant remarks and clever evasions, until Alec had come to the conclusion that he just wasn't interested - even if that admission hurt his pride. 

"Why not?" Harding was persistent. "I mean, the way he looks at you when you turn your back..."

It was almost cruel, to feel that sudden raw surge of new hope. But then Alec recalled Dorian's contemptuous huff earlier today, when he'd taken hold of him to prevent him from sliding down a slippery hillside. The mage had withdrawn his arm immediately, as if Alec's touch were contagious. _Probably doesn't want to get too close to us unwashed barbarians._

Alec shook his head. "Wishful thinking on your part, Harding," was all he said aloud. "Just because you think we'd look good together-"

"I think you'd _be_ good together," she corrected him, her face grim now. "But obviously, you've got your heads too deep in your collective asses to see it."

"Scout Harding!" Cassandra's tone was sharp. "Is this how you talk to the Herald of Andraste?"

"Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." Harding got to her feet with a suitably chastened look. "Good night, Your Worship."

"Night, Harding." Alec smiled affectionately at her retreating back, though he was more shaken by her words than he cared to admit.

"Really, Herald." The Seeker's lips were set in a tight line. "If you allow that kind of disrespect-"

"Oh come on, Cassandra." He made his best puppy eyes at her. "Look, I know you only have my best interests at heart, but I'm sure Harding is as loyal as it gets."

"She is," Cassandra admitted grudgingly. "But that doesn't give her the right to be so... so _familiar_ with you. If we want people to believe in the Inquisition..."

Alec nodded, resigning himself to another lecture on his responsibilities. As if he could escape them! The mark on his hand crackled once, as if it wanted to remind him. _Yes, yes. No running away this time. I get it._

* * *

Cassandra wasn't sure what to make of the Herald's attitude. Sometimes, when he got that determined look in his eyes, she almost dared hope that he really was Andraste's Chosen One, that the mark he bore was a sign of the Maker's favour, a token of hope for all his faithful followers.

Other times, like tonight, she despaired at the thought that Alec Trevelyan was all that stood between them and the end of the world as they knew it. Oh, he was charming, and the common folk loved him, but it didn't take a Seeker's practiced eye to notice that he was floundering, more often than not. Did he have any kind of moral compass at all, or was he just making up stuff as they went along? Whenever he looked at her with those pretty puppy eyes, she felt the strong urge to bang her head against some hard surface.

_Sweet Andraste, Bride of the Maker, why him?_ Why couldn't they have been blessed with a proper leader, like the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall? Or were those, too, just frail humans, and the tales about them nothing but wild exaggerations? She would never get the truth about Hawke from Varric, that much was certain, and if the rumours about Commander Cousland had any basis in fact, the woman was… morally flexible, to say the least. Still, if she could only have persuaded either of them to join their cause, the Inquisition might have the leader it deserved now.

Abruptly, Cassandra got to her feet. "I'm going to bed now. Tomorrow we can decide what to do about those _Blades of Hessarian_."

Alec nodded. "I've spoken to the Iron Bull, and he offered to join us when we go looking for them. He seems trustworthy, for a Qunari, and the way he wields that axe is impressive, so I agreed to take him and his Chargers. I've arranged for Krem to go on to Haven, though, and await us there. Bull seems fond of him, and it won't hurt us to have some leverage, just in case."

Reluctantly, Cassandra nodded. _Just when I thought you were utterly thoughtless and naïve, you prove me wrong_. "Well done," she muttered, surprised at the warmth in her voice. "Sleep well, Herald."

"You, too." He seemed pleased by her praise, smiling softly. "Thank you, Cassandra."

* * *

Dorian had thought the Hinterlands were bad, or the snow up in the mountains at Haven, but really, the Storm Coast was even worse. He couldn't possibly fathom where the rain was coming from at this point. Surely, it couldn't pour forever; surely even the largest cloud could only hold a limited amount of water? At least they didn't expect him to set foot on a boat. The crossing from Tevinter had been one of the worst experiences he could recall, and he'd vowed to avoid the sea for the rest of his natural life.

Quickly, he stripped off his damp clothes and put on dry linen pants and a shirt, then slid under his heavy woollen covers. He was shivering violently. _Cold, always cold. Blasted Southern climate._ Scout Harding had been really sweet about it when he'd asked her for more blankets, though he rather suspected she was laughing about him behind his back. _No matter_. His wounded pride was a small price to pay if he could avoid freezing to death.

Very slowly, he felt his limbs grow warmer. Through the tent's fabric, he could just about make out the faint glow of the fire. He thought he could hear voices, too, Alec's and maybe Harding's, but the faint patter of the rain on the canvas made it impossible to make out individual words. Soon enough, everything went dark and quiet and he was alone with his thoughts.

Alec had seemed quiet and subdued lately, as if he was struggling with some sort of trouble he didn't want to talk about. Of course, it couldn't be easy for him, with everyone looking to him to solve their problems, be it demons or lost property. Dorian definitely didn't envy him. And he was pretty sure Alec would never have chosen this kind of life for himself.

He tried to find a more comfortable position, flinching when a sudden stab of pain in his ankle reminded him of his earlier misstep on the gravelly slope leading down to the beach. It was only thanks to Alec's quick intervention that he had avoided worse injuries. Involuntarily, he shivered, remembering the touch of Alec's hand on his bare skin. He'd come so close to giving his feelings away in that moment, and he'd turned away just in time, pretending to sneeze.

But now that he remembered those long fingers wrapped around his arm, his mind immediately supplied other scenarios, each one more intimate, more sensual than the last: Alec's hand on his flank, guiding his movements; Alec's blunt nails digging into his back; Alec's fist clenched in his hair as he fought for control. Dorian had always been blessed with a vivid imagination, and he simply couldn't stop himself from conjuring up more details: the callouses on Alec's fingertips; the way he'd held him, so firm and yet so careful; the gentle warmth of his touch. Maker, he _wanted_ that touch, he wanted those hands everywhere on his body, and he was shivering all over, though he was no longer cold.

Unable to deny himself any longer, he took hold of his cock, stroking roughly up and down. But he was so hard that he yelped at the sensation, caught between pleasure and pain. For a moment he lay there in the darkness, his heart beating, mortified at the thought that someone had heard him. But there was no noise outside, apart from the rain and the squelching noises of the horses' hooves in the mud.

Rummaging around among his discarded clothes, he found a leather strap, part of his armour. It was soggy and tasted of mud when he experimentally bit down on it, but it would do. Again, he reached for his aching erection, more carefully this time, and ran his hand up and down, gently increasing the pressure when he was sure he could take it. Would Alec touch him like this, soft and controlled? Or would he be eager, impetuous, desperate even? The mere thought made Dorian moan again, and he quickly stifled the noise by biting down hard on the leather.

Maker, he couldn't do this! He couldn't allow himself to think of Alec this way, or he wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes come morning. How could he converse with the Herald of Andraste in a civilized manner when all he could think of was how Alec would look naked, down on his knees, his perfect lips wrapped around Dorian's cock, too gorgeous for words? Yanking harder on his abused flesh, Dorian groaned around the strap, shaking all over with the force of his desire. He was a bad man, he was depraved, dissolute, a disgrace to his family, and surely one day a desire demon would overpower him because he had no control, simply no control, when it came to Alec and what he wanted to do to him.

When he finally came, in long, pulsing spurts, messing up the precious blankets, he felt dirty and ashamed of his own fantasies, but at the same time he didn't fool himself. He knew without a doubt that it would happen again.


	5. Chapter 5

The chantry building was stuffed full of people, some of them wounded, some of them dying. The screams of the suffering only served to heighten the fear of the others, and Dorian felt his own nerves begin to frazzle. Only hours before, they had all been celebrating, dazed with relief and elation because the Breach had finally been closed. And now…

Flissa, the tavern wench, who had so often brought them their drinks, had died right before their eyes. Her arms and back had been so horribly burned that dragging her from the scorched ruin of the inn had only served to prolong her suffering. They had managed to save some others, at least, and Mother Giselle and her helpers were doing their best to help the injured and to offer solace to those who had lost loved ones. But there were simply too many of them. And anyway, what was the point, when they were all going to die soon? The Elder One was too powerful – with the corrupted Templars at his side, he would finish them off before they had a chance to regroup.

Dorian kept to the shadows, making a perfunctory attempt to comfort Chancellor Roderick, who was clearly not going to recover. He didn't have much sympathy for the man – an obnoxious bureaucrat, if he'd ever seen one. But being at death's door warranted a certain amount of respect. Besides, it was a good spot for watching Alec and his advisors confer without being noticed himself. Dorian noted the strained hopeless looks on their faces and wondered what they could possibly hope to achieve.

And then he heard Cole's voice, oddly unemotional. "The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald."

Alec's answer, in a small, tired voice, came as a complete surprise. "I'd give myself to save Haven."

Dorian held his breath. That was… unexpected. Alec Trevelyan had never struck him as a likely candidate for heroic sacrifice. True, he'd spent the past months closing rifts and fighting demons all over the place, but it had always been with a vague reluctance, as if he was secretly hoping someone else would take over the task. Still, maybe this was one of those moments where ordinary people became heroes. Though Dorian really failed to see how-

"There is a way. The people can escape." Chancellor Roderick's broken body arched up in his arms as a spasm of pain raced through him, and Dorian stared at him, too surprised to respond right away. He certainly hadn't expected anything hopeful from _that_ source. Quickly, hegestured for Alec and the others to join them.

As they listened to Roderick's strained voice, Dorian felt a tiny flutter of hope. _A secret path_. Maybe they could get away after all.

Alec nodded decisively, his expression focussed. He and the others exchanged a few hushed whispers, then he raised his voice. "Cullen, can you get them out?"

Roderick gave up his life with a last, rattling breath, and Dorian closed his eyes, muttering a silent thank you to the dead man.

He was about to get to his feet when he heard the Commander's quiet reply. "But what of your escape?"

Alec didn't answer, just turned away. Dorian's chest contracted painfully. _Oh Maker, he can't do that. He is going to die. And I never-_

"Who's coming with me? I need to reach the trebuchet." Alec's voice sounded firm, almost cheerful.

Dorian raised his head. "I'm at your side, Herald."

"Me, too." Cassandra's face was grim and determined. Dorian noted the flash of pain and worry crossing Cullen's features, but he was too busy fighting his own demons to have room for pity.

The Iron Bull joined them, without saying a word, and they left the relative safety of the chantry, heading right toward the worst of the danger.

Dorian tried to keep as close to Alec as he could, but it was hard to keep track of events in the utter chaos that reigned. Afterwards, he couldn't recall clearly what had happened; it was all just a series of disjointed images and feelings: The desperate fight for control of the trebuchet, all four of them pulling up reserves they didn't even know they had, until they had managed to fire it and set off the avalanche. A dragon, an actual full-grown dragon flying towards them, Alec screaming at them to get away, snow everywhere, cries of panic and despair, the booming voice of the Elder One. Pain and confusion and utter exhaustion. And finally, much later, the warmth of a campfire, with firm, capable hands holding him down as his wounds were bandaged, and someone telling him in a soothing tone that he was safe and could rest.

It was only when he woke up on the next morning that Dorian fully realized Alec was gone.

They waited. For more than a day he waited, and with every passing hour, the painful certainty grew inside him. Alec was gone. He had died a hero, he had died to save them all, but he was gone. Dorian wandered along the edge of the camp, nearly blinding himself by staring out into the snowstorm. There was no way Alec could have survived this, even if the Elder One hadn't killed him first. The common soldiers made signs against the Evil Eye when he passed them, but he was past caring. He was alone with his grief. He'd always been alone.

Then, long after they had ceased hoping, Alec showed up, battered and half-frozen, but alive. It didn't take long before they began calling it a miracle. Once again, Dorian kept in the background while they greeted him like a long-lost son, while they sang their hymns and cheered their saviour. He did manage to sneak into the tent in the middle of the night, to watch Alec as he slept, his chest near bursting with emotion. But he kept to himself during the day.

There were always too many others who wanted to talk to the Herald, who wanted to assure him that his miraculous return surely meant that their endeavour was blessed by Andraste herself, who asked him for his blessing or at least wanted him to put in a word for them with the Maker's bride.

It wasn't until much later, when they were marching north, that Dorian found himself at Alec's side again.

"Dorian." None of the things he'd been through had dimmed the intensity of Alec's smile. "It's good to be back with you. All of you."

"It's good to have you back, Alec." Dorian had used the name without thinking, and he only noticed his lapse when Alec's smile widened even further. "We… had little hope for you when you took so long to join us."

"I know." Alec's expression grew sombre. "I thought I was done for myself, I really did. I'm still not sure how I made it to your camp."

Dorian's throat felt far too tight. "Well, you did." He coughed briefly. _And I'm glad, more than you'll ever know._ He turned away to hide his feelings.

"Dorian, I-" Alec grabbed his shoulder in an impulsive gesture, frowning when he felt his skin rise in gooseflesh. "Are you cold?" He seemed to have forgotten what he'd wanted to say. "Of course you're cold. Here."

With a quick, graceful gesture, he untied the green velvet scarf he wore as a sash. Brushing aside Dorian's protests, he tied it around his neck, his hand shaking a little. "Nonsense. You take it. I'm used to a little chill, but you will catch your death if you're not careful."

Dorian was still trying to come up with a suitable answer when Cassandra called for the Herald to inspect some roadside marker. Alec shrugged apologetically and left with a small, crooked smile. Following him with his gaze, Dorian buried his face in the warm, plushy fabric, inhaling deeply and breathing in Alec's scent: leather and wax and a hint of elven herbs.

He was feeling much warmer already.

* * *

All of Skyhold was celebrating tonight. Alec made the rounds, starting with the more sedate festivities up in the main hall, then going out to greet the common folk. Everyone looked happy and hopeful tonight; even the sick and the wounded had smiles on their faces. And they were celebrating _him_. Their new Inquisitor, Andraste's Chosen One, come back from the dead to save them all. It was intoxicating to be revered like this, and at the same time it scared Alec to death.

Of course he, too, was glad that they had come to Skyhold, grateful to Solas for leading them here. Not only were their quarters far more luxurious, despite the necessary renovations, but they all felt a lot safer in the mighty fortress than they ever had at Haven. If Corypheus should attack again- But no, he didn't want to think about that tonight. Tonight he would be happy and carefree like the others. Shaking off the dark thoughts, Alec headed for the tavern.

Much as he had expected, he found Varric and Sera there, and Bull and Blackwall, too, seated at the large central table with several of the Chargers, each of them nursing a large mug of ale. Cole was lingering in the background, a haunting, shadowy presence, and at a quiet corner table Alec was surprised to see Dorian, with a glass of Nevarran red in front of him, smiling quietly to himself.

He was greeted by another rousing chorus of cheers and accepted the place of honour with a bashful nod. Bull's hearty slap on the shoulder nearly sent him flying to the ground, but their faces were friendly and welcoming, and soon he was laughing and chatting with all of them, trading stories of their adventures before the Inquisition.

There was a new serving girl, a curvy redhead with lovely, creamy skin, displayed to best advantage in her low-cut dress. When she brought him his ale, she caught his eye and curtsied briefly. "Your Worship. You honour us with your visit, Inquisitor."

"No titles, please." Alec smiled brightly at her. "I'm here to relax. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Riona." She tossed her head back and winked at him. "My, you're a charmer, aren't you? I thought you'd be all stiff and serious, like the Commander."

Alec flinched a little. _I guess I should have toned it down a bit_. Though, really, why should he? Riona was pretty and lively, and it wasn't as if he'd never spent time with willing wenches in the past. Back when he was still out and about with the boys, there had been no shortage of heated kisses and hasty fumblings in the hay. But that was long past and nowadays… He glanced over at Dorian's table, but the mage's face was unreadable, and he made no move to join them.

Sighing internally, Alec returned his attention to Riona, watching as she made her way around the table, easily laughing off Blackwall's flowery compliments and a few more explicit suggestions from the Chargers. _She can definitely hold her own._ When Bull pulled her into his lap to whisper in her ear, she smiled wickedly and whispered something back, slapping him playfully with her tiny hand.

The loud roar of the Qunari's laughter filled the room. "Ah, girl, you've got spirit." He chuckled, but he didn't let go of her yet. "Not even a kiss?" There was a hoarse rasp to Bull's voice that sent a shiver down Alec's spine.

Riona firmly shook her head, but at the same time she was looking at Alec, her lips half-opened, her eyes wide, and there was no mistaking the intent in them.

Bull followed her gaze and laughed again. "I bet you wouldn't say no if _he_ asked for a kiss, eh?" Without missing a beat he pushed the girl into Alec's lap. "What do you say, boss? A kiss for the lovely lady, to celebrate that we're alive?"

A loud murmur of approval went up from the others, mugs were banged on the table to cheer him on, and Alec rolled his eyes. "All right."

He had meant to keep it brief and chaste, but Riona had other ideas. Running her hand over his chest, she moulded her soft curves against him, teasing him with her tongue until he gave in and kissed her properly. She smelled good, despite the faint aroma of ale that clung to her, and her skin was incredibly smooth and warm. Instinctively, he pulled her closer, burying his hand in her long, silky hair, relishing her soft whimper as he explored her mouth thoroughly.

When she finally pulled back, her breathing had sped up. "I sleep above the inn, Inquisitor, in case you feel lonely tonight." There was a faint blush on her cheeks, and her voice was a bit shaky, as if she was afraid of her own courage, but Alec didn't doubt she meant every word.

Another quick peck on his lips, and she was on her feet again, sashaying over to the neighbouring table where she was greeted with hoots and catcalls. Alec quickly wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His eyes found the corner table again, but it was empty. Dorian had disappeared. _Damn_. This had gone a lot further than he'd intended. He sighed, feeling his good mood drain away.

Next to him, Blackwall reached for his mug with a chuckle. "What a little firecracker. I'm not sure I could say no to an offer like that."

Bull made a snorting noise. "And why would you?" When he saw Alec's expression, he gave him a hearty shove. "Aww, come on, boss. Why don't you take her up on it? It will do you good. Or are you afraid she's going to brag about her night with the Inquisitor?"

The thought hadn't even crossed Alec's mind. "It's not that." He shook his head, his gaze drawn again to the vacant chair in the corner. "She's a lovely girl, to be sure. She's just… not what I want."

His voice had dropped almost to a whisper at those last words. The Qunari gave him a piercing look, but thankfully left him alone. When the inn finally closed down, they moved over to the Chargers' quarters, where Bull had them open a keg of mead and the partying went on.

When Alec returned to his quarters, the sun was already coming up, painting the massive walls of Skyhold a pretty, pale pink. He was far too tired to appreciate the beauty of the moment. His head spinning from too much ale and too many raunchy anecdotes, he dropped onto his bed and immediately sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dorian stared at the letter in his hand, willing his eyes to remain dry. He'd expected the message for some time now, but even so… _Poor dear Felix._ When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear his voice, taste the honey cakes Felix would steal from the kitchens for him, see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. _All gone. Such a terrible waste._ Such a ghastly way to go, too. He bit back a sob, managing to turn it into some kind of hiccup at the last minute when he heard steps behind him.

“Dorian?” It was Alec, of course.

Hardly a day had gone by lately without him showing up in Dorian’s cushy little corner of the library. He'd stay for maybe half an hour, ask endless questions about Tevinter and listen to Dorian’s explanation with quiet attentiveness. Only rarely did he venture an opinion or interrupt. Dorian treasured those rare occasions when Alec suddenly grew less guarded and more animated, assuring him that he wasn't to blame for the excesses of his homeland.

In moments like this, Dorian felt his heart beat faster, but then the memories would return: the pretty barmaid kissing Alec with abandon, her hand tightening on his shoulder when he'd deepened the kiss, the way she'd looked at him afterwards. _Oh, get over it_ , he chided himself. _You have his friendship, and that's not to be sneered at_.

“Dorian?” Alec repeated, sounding worried. “Is everything all right? You look…” He didn't finish the sentence, and Dorian was grateful.

“It's Felix.” He was proud of how steady his voice was. “He… passed away two weeks ago.”

“I'm so sorry.” Alec stepped closer, touching his arm so briefly he wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it. “Is there anything-“

He shook his head. “I'll be fine. It was hardly unexpected. But I…” His voice was faltering after all. “I'm going to miss him. He was a good man. He was special.”

Alec’s expression was unreadable. “You make it sound as if you aren't. As if he'd been better than you.”

Dorian swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. “Well, he was.”

Alec opened his mouth as if to say something, but right then, Fiona appeared behind him. “Inquisitor. A word?”

“I'll be with you in a minute, Grand Enchanter.” Alec turned to leave, but at the last moment, he raised his head and looked Dorian in the eyes. “I don't think so.” He was gone before Dorian could think of a reply.

Randomly grabbing a book from the shelf, he tried to find something else to think about, but after half an hour spent staring at the page without managing to take in a single word, he gave up. His mind was racing and he felt feverish. _I need a drink_.

Maybe Bull would be at the tavern. The Qunari could always be relied on to be entertaining, and Dorian badly needed a distraction. But, when he arrived, the only familiar face inside the dimly lit room belonged to Blackwall, who was sitting at a table by himself, staring into space. It would have been the height of rudeness not to join him, so Dorian dropped into the empty chair next to him. Blackwall grunted briefly, then settled back into silence. _Great. Just great._

Dorian’s mood wasn't improved when he saw Riona appear in the doorway, carrying a loaded tray. The girl seemed even more irritable than he was, though, slamming their drinks down on the table and disappearing without her usual friendly banter.

Blackwall raised a bushy eyebrow. "Dearie me. What has happened to get _her_ knickers in a twist?"

"She's hurt and disappointed." Cole had appeared from nowhere, his face concerned. "She thought the Inquisitor would come and hold her at night, but he hasn't. She doesn't understand why."

Dorian nearly choked on his drink. "Cole, I've told you a thousand times, you can't just blurt out those things."

At the same time, something had begun to flutter in his belly, some strange, excited little feeling. He didn't even dare to call it _hope_ yet. Had he misjudged the situation? Was there really nothing between Alec and the girl? Yet, their kiss had seemed passionate enough… Firmly, he told himself to stop.

Blackwall cleared his throat. "Some things are private, lad."

Cole shrugged, clearly failing to see the problem. "I could make her forget. Then she would be happy again."

Dorian closed his eyes, sorely tempted for a moment, but then he scolded himself. _You can't mess with the minds of everyone he's flirting with_. That way lay madness, obsession. Next thing he knew, he'd be trying to win Alec's affections with blood magic.

"Leave her alone, Cole," he said aloud. "She'll get over it. People do, you know."

_Or so I'm told._ If only he could believe in his own words.

* * *

Cassandra came to see him in the late afternoon, when most of the day's business was done. Cullen was glad to see her. His headaches had been worse in the past few days. The lyrium was calling to him, and he preferred not to be alone.

“Cullen. You seem tired.” There was a hint of worry in her voice.

He brushed her words aside with a dismissive gesture. “No more than usual."

Cassandra didn't look convinced. "Do you have time for a chat?”

“Of course.” He leaned against his desk and motioned for her to take the chair.

Gesturing upward, she put on her strictest face. “You still haven't done anything about the roof."

Cullen shook his head. “Other things are more urgent. And I like the cool air. Makes it easier to breathe.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling. “Honestly, you're such a Fereldan sometimes.”

“No point in denying that, I guess.” He chuckled to himself. "And before you ask, yes, I would love to have a mabari, like Slobber."

"Of course you would." Cassandra laughed softly, running a hand through her short hair.

They spent a few minutes in companionable silence, each following their own train of thought. He liked that about her. Cassandra never seemed to feel the need to fill the quiet moments with idle chatter.

When she spoke, she sounded pensive. “Alec has changed since Haven.”

Cullen nodded. “Yes. He's grown up quite a bit, I believe. You know…” He rubbed his neck. “I may have misjudged him. I used to think he was vain and selfish, but he didn't hesitate for a moment when it was his life for everyone’s. He could have died.”

“True. But maybe he's just too young to value his own life the way he should,” Cassandra pointed out. “I don't know, Cullen. He has a good heart, I think, but there's still so much that worries me.”

“Such as?” he gently prodded when she hesitated.

“His… regard for Dorian, for one thing.” Cassandra made a small, exasperated noise. “Befriending a mage from Tevinter! He's no longer a simple country squire who can do as he pleases. If anything should happen-”

“You think Dorian is a danger?” Cullen frowned. “He's proven trustworthy so far.”

“Maybe.” Cassandra seemed in a particularly ominous mood today. “But even if he’s not a threat, having him here is making the Inquisition look bad.” She sighed. “If only I could make Alec see reason. But he won't listen where Dorian is concerned. And he is the Inquisitor now. I can't just tell him what to do.”

Cullen sighed, too. “You know, you could have done it. You could have led the Inquisition yourself.”

But Cassandra shook her head decisively, her lips set in a firm line. “Me? No, Cullen. I'm not a leader. They wouldn't follow me.”

“I would.” _To the Void itself, if need be._ He didn't quite succeed in keeping his voice even, but hopefully she wouldn't notice.

There was a moment of loaded silence, before Cassandra cleared her throat and went on as if she hadn't heard him. “Anyway, whatever Alec’s faults, we need him. The people love him. He does have that talent, you know, to draw people’s attention, to fascinate them. Wherever he goes, they all just…” She blushed. “Everyone falls in love with him, sooner or later.”

“Everyone? Even you?” It hurt to ask, but Cullen had to know. Even though he would never dream of inflicting a broken husk like himself upon her, it would be painful if she-

But to his relief, Cassandra snorted. “I'm old enough to be his mother! No, not me. Well, maybe just a little bit,” she amended with an indulgent smile. “He _can_ be very charming, if he puts his mind to it. But, really, Cullen, I’m not some romantic young damsel swooning over dashing heroes. You know me better than that.”

“I do.” _And I like you all the better for it_. He smiled apologetically. “I'm sorry if I have offended you.”

“You haven't.” She opened her mouth as if to say more, and he held his breath, but before she could say what was on her mind, there was a sharp knock on the door, and it swung open.

With an exasperated sigh, Cullen turned to face his aide. “What is it this time, Jim?”

* * *

The evening sun was close to setting when Alec bid Strider goodnight. The horse whinnied happily when he kissed his soft nose and breathed gently into the flared nostrils. Alec had spent over an hour in the stables, rubbing Strider down and talking to him. He liked to take care of his horse himself on occasion, and besides, it was quiet and relaxing here, with no other sound but the content munching of the animals and no one to ask questions or make demands on him.

The horses seemed to love their new accommodations, too. They had lost a few on the way from Haven, but Master Dennet was taking good care of the remaining ones. Besides, several of their new allies had sent them additional steeds as a gesture of goodwill, some of them rather exotic.

Thinking of Haven still hurt, though. If only they had known about Skyhold's existence before Corypheus' attack, so many could have been saved. So much suffering could have been avoided. And he wouldn't still wake up at night hearing the victims scream.

Ah, well. It was no use worrying about the past. He was the Inquisitor now, with a capital "I", no longer just Alec Trevelyan, and he couldn't allow setbacks like that to drag him down. He had to focus on stopping Corypheus. Everyone was relying on him, everyone believed he would save them all. Heading for the stable doors, he wearily rubbed his face, wishing he could leave it all behind, at least for a little while. If only there was someone who understood, someone he could talk to. If only Dorian-

He'd thought he was all alone, so the young stable hand emerging from one of the stalls took him completely by surprise. The lad looked to be no older than twenty, and he was visibly overwhelmed by running into the _Inquisitor_ himself. Really, Alec was sure he'd never get used to the title, no matter what Cullen said.

"Your Worship. You shouldn't lower yourself to such menial tasks. You will spoil your finery if you are not careful. There. See?" Without further ado, the young man dropped to his knees right in front of him and produced a soft linen rag, which he used to dab at a splatter of horse dung on Alec's fine halla leather breeches. "Allow me-"

"You don't have to do this!" Alec realized that he'd sounded sharper than he'd intended, and without thinking, he took hold of the boy's chin and made him look up.

Clear grey eyes met his, and Alec gasped. He hadn't noticed it at first glance, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Sleek black hair, olive skin, full lips... _Maker, he could easily be Dorian's younger brother!_ The faintly nasal Orlesian accent was all wrong, obviously, and-

"I want to." The young man's voice sounded heavy and sultry and his eyes looked up at Alec with undisguised ardour. "I would do anything for you, Inquisitor, anything at all. Just say the word."

Alec had to grip a post for balance. _Sweet Andraste! That's not fair_. The young man was still on his knees before him, and he was _licking_ his lips now, and oh, Maker, it would be so easy to let him proceed. So easy to lose himself in his warm mouth while imagining another set of lips around his cock. So easy to pretend. He wouldn't even have to close his eyes, a little squinting should do it, and-

"Inquisitor?" The young man's hand, still holding the rag, was sliding surreptitiously up his thigh, and Alec was so painfully hard that any moment now, he had to feel it, had to know what he was doing to him.

And sure enough, there was a glint of triumph in those pretty eyes, a hint of smug satisfaction around the pouting mouth, and suddenly his face didn't look like Dorian's anymore, not at all.

Taking a deep breath, Alec took a step back, and grasped the young man's hand to help him to his feet. "Your loyalty is much appreciated." He was pleased to hear how calm and cool he sounded. "But I can take care of myself just fine."

He blushed when he realized the unintentional double meaning of his words, and he quickly turned to leave. He didn't want to see the knowing smirk on the young man's face, didn't want to have that image burned on his brain when he returned to his quarters.

Because, yes, he would take care of himself, once again. What else could he do?

                                                                                                                                          


	7. Chapter 7

"Thank you for coming with me." Dorian sounded tired beyond measure, his tone uncharacteristically subdued. "It meant a lot."

They had returned to Skyhold just after noon, and as soon as Alec could get away from the others, he had rushed up to the library. There was no way he was leaving Dorian alone after what he'd been through at Redcliffe.

It had been such a bizarre affair, all of it, starting with the letter from Magister Pavus, asking for a clandestine meeting with his son. Alec was still mad at Mother Giselle for suggesting he take Dorian to him without a proper warning. As if he would dream of deceiving him like that! Alec wasn't sentimental about _family_ , for reasons of his own, and no doubt Dorian had his reasons for being estranged from his father. Either way, he had a right to decide on his own.

Dorian had agreed to come to the inn at Redcliffe, though, and he had heard his father out, even though it had clearly pained him. Oh Maker, he'd been so bitter, so hurt by his father's attitude toward his sexual preferences. It had been painful to watch. In the end, Alec had seen no reason to stop Dorian when he'd walked out on his father. Who could blame him? If Alec's own parents had ever talked to him like Magister Halward had to Dorian, he probably wouldn't have forgiven them either.

"It's fine. I'm glad I was there." Alec stared at Dorian's profile, outlined against the window pane, so perfect it _hurt_. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Dorian flashed him a rare, genuine smile. "Go ahead."

Alec swallowed. "When your father said… when he suggested that we were lovers… Why were you so furious at him? Is the thought really so repulsive for you?"

Dorian's smile vanished, making room for an expression of shock and pain. "No! Why would you think-" He paused, biting his lip and staring at the floor. "Oh, dear. Clearly, I've made a horrible mess of this. I thought…" Raising his head, he met Alec's eyes. "I was just mad at my father for assuming I couldn't simply be friends with you, for thinking all I cared about was sex. And besides… I feared you might be offended by his suggestion."

"Hardly." Alec snorted contemptuously. "Maker, Dorian, are you telling me you haven't figured out that I prefer men, too? I thought that was pretty obvious. Blight it, you could have _asked_ me, if you weren't sure."

Dorian actually blushed. "I… had my suspicions, but it's not that easy. Where I come from, it isn't something you'd admit to in public, or even among friends. When my father made that remark, he meant to insult you."

Alec shrugged. "I don't care what he thinks of me. But, it must have been tough for you, growing up."

Dorian sighed. "My father expected me to put on a show. He wanted me to marry a girl from a good family, produce an heir, and thus ensure the future of House Pavus. But I couldn't. When I refused, he tried to… change me, with the help of a blood magic ritual." He shook his head with a small bitter laugh. "He must have been so desperate to resort to that kind of madness, to go against all his principles, just to make me _acceptable_. I can't forgive him for what he did. I won't."

Alec frowned, trying his best to understand. "Blood magic? But… Why was he willing to go to such lengths, just because you refused to marry? I mean, there must be some cousin or uncle who could inherit the family fortune and titles. Or, you could have adopted an heir later on. Lots of nobles do. Heck, King Alistair and Queen Anora did, and everyone's happy with their choice."

Dorian shook his head. "Ah, no. That's not the way it works in Tevinter, you see. I'd have been wasting a carefully optimized bloodline, designed to produce the perfect mage. Generations of breeding gone down the drain. They couldn't have that."

"But that's…" Alec didn't bother to hide his disgust any longer. "You're not a horse or a dog!"

Dorian shrugged. "My parents wouldn't see it like that. To them, it's simply what's expected of men of our station. The continuity and advancement of your family has to trump all other concerns. To be honest, I'd have expected it to be much the same for you. Didn't your family mind at all?"

Alec shook his head. "I don't think my parents know or care. You see, I'm the youngest of seven. By the time I grew up, my brothers had already produced eight or nine heirs between them. And my sisters had made advantageous matches all over Ferelden and the Free Marches. Before they went off with their respective husbands, they spoiled me rotten." He grinned, doing a passable imitation of a girly voice. " _Oh, look at our sweet little Alec, so adorable! Let's buy him another toy sword._ Anyway, my parents simply didn't know what to do with me. They tried giving me to the Chantry, but the Revered Mother made it very clear I wasn't Templar material." He laughed lightly. "See? I'm the spare, the expendable one, the runt of the litter. No one has ever expected anything of me."

"But what if it had been different?" Dorian sounded incredulous. "What if you'd been the eldest?"

"You want the truth?" Alec couldn't have explained why he suddenly felt the need to be honest. "If they'd insisted on it, I'd probably have found myself a good-natured Marcher girl and gone through the motions to put a baby or two in her belly. And afterwards, I'd have gone on to do as I pleased. No point in antagonizing everyone. I mean it's not as if women disgust me, or anything. I could have managed."

Dorian looked genuinely hurt. "I… see. Well, that's hardly unusual. Maker knows, I've had my share of such arrangements in the past."

The bitterness in his voice made Alec flinch. "Look, Dorian, I know it would be dishonest and cowardly and whatnot. And I admire you for standing up to your father, I truly do. That was incredibly brave. It's just… I'm not like you. If there's an easy way out, I'll take it." _And now that I've told you, you'll probably hate me for it._

Dorian shook his head. "So, that's how you see yourself." It was barely a whisper. "I don't believe that. I think you're lying to yourself."

Alec huffed impatiently. "Look, you're giving me too much credit. When all's said and done… It's so much easier to pretend, to show one face to the world, and hide the rest. Who cares what you really feel, as long as you play your part well?"

* * *

Alec was obviously doing his best to sound cool and unconcerned, but despite his efforts, his voice broke a little on his last words, and it was that tiny detail that decided Dorian.

"I do." Tossing back his head, he fixed Alec with his gaze, hoping they would convey what his words couldn't. "I can't spend the rest of my life living a lie. Oh, I know I pretend not to care, for the most part. But deep inside… Maker, Alec, what else is worth fighting for, if not love?" He dropped his gaze to the floor, holding his breath.

The silence seemed to last forever. When he finally dared to looked up again, Alec was staring at him, his pupils wide, his hands balled into tight fists. "Dorian…"

He didn't go on, but his lips were trembling, as if he was struggling to find the right words, and Dorian couldn't take his eyes off those lips, not anymore. Alec took a small step forward, lessening the distance between them, and it was tempting, so tempting to do the same.

Before he knew it, Dorian had extended his hand, sliding his fingers slowly into Alec's thick, honey-blond hair, the way he'd wanted to ever since their first meeting. One more tiny step, and their bodies were touching, their lips so close they were sharing the same breath, and Dorian kept expecting someone to show up and disturb them, kept expecting Alec to flinch back, to say that it had all been a misunderstanding.

But Alec just smiled, a genuine, happy smile, and then their lips met and the world went away. Had Mother Giselle chosen that very moment to enter the library, Dorian wouldn't have noticed her. Alec's lips were soft and warm, and he tasted like heaven, and when Dorian shyly flicked his tongue against his mouth, he opened up willingly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. They drowned in each other, completely unable to hold back now that the dam was broken, both of them so hungry for more, so eager to explore, that by the time they let go of each other, Dorian was feeling dazed from lack of air.

"Maker, Alec." His voice sounded strange even to his own ears. "You-" He stopped, unable to find words. For the life of him, he couldn't recall ever having been affected like this by a simple kiss.

Alec laughed softly, helplessly, and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Dorian's. "Yes."

They remained like this for a long moment, then Alec pulled back, running a gentle finger along Dorian's chin where his stubble had scraped the mage's soft skin. "That looks painful. I'm sorry."

"As well you should be." Dorian was glad for the excuse to lighten the mood. "I keep telling you that scruff makes you look like a barbarian."

"Actually, I think it makes me look more… manly." Alec's eyes were glittering happily and he seemed unable to stop himself from smiling. "Don't you think?"

"No need for that." Dorian almost blushed at the passion in his own voice. "I-" He broke off, trying to collect himself.

Alec's lips twitched briefly, but then they heard voices, just around the corner, and he pulled back with a sigh. Dorian echoed the sigh, immediately missing the warmth of his body.

"I need to…" Alec shook his head, as if to clear it, and turned to leave. "We'll talk later."

"Yes. We will." Dorian watched him go, trying hard not to let his imagination dwell on what else they could be doing right now. "Soon."

* * *

Cassandra had spent the afternoon up in the loft above the smithy, as usual. It had become her favourite place in Skyhold, despite the acrid smell of burnt hooves and the constant clanging noise. It made it hard to focus on her reading sometimes, but at the same time it ensured quite effectively that her conversations wouldn't be overheard when she had company. She had seen enough of Leliana’s spy reports to appreciate that fact.

Few people would know to look for her here, but Cullen was one of them, so she wasn't overly surprised when she heard his heavy steps on the stairs. He had a worried frown on his face, and it didn't disappear when he greeted her with a curt nod. "Cassandra. Mother Giselle has been to see me. Apparently, one of the servant girls saw Alec with Dorian in the library and reported to her."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "She saw them doing what?"

To her surprise, Cullen's cheeks took on a faint pink tinge. "They were… kissing, apparently. Passionately." He coughed briefly. "In a manner that was clearly more than just… friendly."

For a moment, she was actually amused. "Why, Cullen, what's the matter? I hadn't taken you for a prude. You're not-" She eyed him suspiciously. "You're not flustered by the fact that they're both men?"

"What? No!" Cullen's eyes widened. "Why would I… I mean, it's hardly the first time that I've come across-" He broke off with a weary sigh. "Oh, dear. I'm making it worse, aren't I?" His expression was almost comically embarrassed.

"Never mind." Guiltily, Cassandra thought of the book she'd been reading before he arrived, a rather lurid description of a budding romance between two strapping young Templars. If Cullen knew- "I take it Mother Giselle doesn't approve."

"No. And I thought you didn't either." Cullen rubbed his neck. "I mean, you said-"

"I know what I said." Cassandra made a face. "Still, they're both of age. And at least it seems to be more than just a fling. Who knows, maybe it will even do Alec good."

When Cullen made a small, incredulous noise, she shrugged. "It can't be easy for him, all that responsibility. It must be a heavy burden at times. Maybe he needs some… comfort."

Cullen nodded pensively. "Maybe we all do." His voice was so low she wasn't sure she'd heard him right, what with the din rising from below. He buried his face in his hand for a moment, and when he looked up, he seemed weary but determined. "Right. Anyway, I thought you should know about this. I hope Mother Giselle won't bother you, too."

"Oh, I'm sure she will." Cassandra raised her chin. "Don't worry. I can handle her."

"I don't doubt it." His smile was back. "Good night, Cassandra."

"Good night, Cullen." She watched him from the window as he crossed the yard. The last rays of the sun cast long shadows on the walls and painted his armour a soft, rose gold. When they died away, she could just barely make him out in the distance, a solitary figure headed for his lonely perch on top of the tower.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Alec was beginning to wonder if it was possible to die of sexual frustration. It had been almost six weeks since that kiss in the library, and nothing more had happened. Oh, there'd been more kisses, deep and hungry, leaving him dizzy with want. A few furtive touches, too, between the bookshelves where someone could walk in on them any moment. But so far Dorian had refused to go further, and it was enough to make a man go insane. Alec had actually been grateful for the respite, when he'd been called back to the Storm Coast to deal with yet another darkspawn infestation, and Dorian had stayed behind.

Everything about Dorian was driving Alec crazy. His voice, velvety and warm, every musical note and every vibration going straight to Alec's groin. His hands, with their long, graceful fingers, so adept at handling his staff. _And that's an image that doesn't help at all._ The line of his back under the robes, perfectly curved, just begging for Alec's hand to run down it, to trace every single vertebra, to find each spot that would make him shiver...

And just like that, he was half-hard again, and had to start thinking about slimy demonic ichor and stinking bear's innards just to get through yet another meeting of the War Council. As soon as it was over, he headed for the library, for all the good it would do.

Seeing Mother Giselle's familiar silhouette hovering near Dorian's favourite spot immediately put a damper on his arousal. And Dorian was facing her, looking defensive and… hurt?

"What's going on here?" Alec did his best to sound diplomatic, but it took quite an effort.

Mother Giselle's friendly smile had been rubbing him the wrong way ever since that affair with Magister Halward's letter. He kept telling himself how much good she'd done, but-

He had to nudge Dorian with his elbow, before he replied. "Idle gossip, nothing more. The Revered Mother felt the need to tell me that she's concerned about my 'undue influence' over you." Dorian practically spat out the words.

Mother Giselle's expression became even more sanctimonious. "I am not alone in my concern, Your Worship. Surely, you must see..." Alec listened with growing disgust as she kept hinting at what she was clearly loath to put into words. "The rumours alone…"

"What rumours exactly?" Alec crossed his arms, glaring at her.

Next to him, Dorian was chuckling softly, and he was standing so close that Alec could _feel_ his warmth. He was sorely tempted to pull Dorian into his arms, to kiss him then and there, even if it would have rather ruined his argument. Still, seeing Mother Giselle get even more flustered would almost be worth it. She was floundering as it was, a fierce blush colouring her cheeks as she refused to say more. Alec hardly heard her stammered apologies, because once again he felt the anger rising white-hot inside him.

_And what if the rumours were true? Maker knows, I want them to be._ Alec nearly snorted aloud. Here he was, standing up to the blasted woman, just to make a point. For Andraste's sake, it wasn't as if he and Dorian had actually _done_ any of the things she suspected them of. Still, it rankled him, the way she'd been so quick to jump to the conclusion that they were up to all kinds of unmentionable acts, so sure that Dorian must have "ulterior motives". _Because it's so hard to wrap her brain around the idea that we're simply in love!_

He glanced over at Dorian, who seemed a little mollified by Mother Giselle's parting words. "Are you all right? Or did she get to you?"

"I'm fine." Dorian flashed him a brief smile. "I don't care about her opinion, Alec, as long as you-" He cleared his throat. "Thank you. I'm truly sorry that my presence causes so much offense."

"Dorian!" Alec shook his head. "You know you could never offend me. I'm always pleased to see you." He flinched when he heard his own words. _Oh dear. That came out all kinds of wrong._

For a moment, Dorian seemed speechless, but he recovered quickly, chuckling at the unintended double meaning. "Well, I'll try and think about ways of pleasing you even more then, shall I?" With a wink and a wide smile, he was gone.

Alec leaned against a bookshelf, drawing deep breaths to calm himself. _Damn tease_. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

* * *

The Shade had nearly killed Cassandra.

At the last moment, Dorian had managed to throw up a protective barrier around her to keep her safe until they'd finished off the monster. They'd had to carry her back to camp on a stretcher, and the healers had looked at each other with ominous expressions at the sight of her wounds. Now, after they had worked on the deep gashes in her back for almost two hours straight, she was out of danger. She would recover without lasting damage, and, knowing Cassandra, she'd be quick about it. But it had been a close call. Too close.

Dorian kept staring at Alec from the corner of his eyes. Alec appeared oddly absent while they were listening to the healer's report, but the fingers of his right hand were clenched so tightly around his tin mug that the knuckles were white with strain. _He blames himself. And rightly so._ Dorian wasn't sure whether to be worried or angry.

None of the others had noticed, in the thick of the fighting, but from his vantage place on top of a boulder Dorian had had a nice overview of the battle, and he had seen Alec's arrow fly, missing the Shade by almost a yard. Which was clearly impossible.

Alec had had a clear line of sight, the air had been still but for the crackle of supernatural energy, and the light bright and clear. In the normal course of events, there was simply no way he could have missed at that distance. Of course he'd followed up that failed shot with another one immediately, and that second arrow had flown true. But it had come a split second too late. Too late to stop the thing from digging its claws into Cassandra's unprotected back, too late to save her from going down.

There was no way they could proceed with their mission without her. They would have to regroup first, and lick their wounds, and not just metaphorically. His face subdued, Alec gave the order to return home.

As soon as they were safely back at Skyhold, Dorian went looking for Alec. He found him at the archery range, furiously firing arrow after arrow into the targets. Not a single one missed its aim. Alec's face was so focussed it bordered on obsession. Yet, when he saw Dorian, he immediately lowered the bow and came toward him, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Without a word of greeting, he leaned against the fence next to Dorian, waiting in silence.

"You missed!" Dorian was still too shaken to bother with softening his words. "The thing was right there, in front of you, and you _missed_! I've never seen you botch a shot like that."

"I know." Alec was staring into the distance, his jaws moving furiously. "I was… distracted."

"Distracted by what?" Dorian wasn't going to be put off so easily. "We were in the middle of a fight! What could possibly have been more interesting-"

"Oh, blight it, Dorian!" Alec turned to face him, blushing so hard his normally golden skin looked almost pink. " _You_ , of course. Don't pretend you don't know what you've been doing to me those past few weeks."

Dorian was torn between shock and amusement. "Are you telling me you missed a beginner's shot because you were too busy thinking about _me_?"

Alec's pout would have been adorable, if the occasion hadn't been so serious. "Well, what do you expect? When you're around, I… You are definitely compromising my ability to think straight."

"Oh, Alec." Checking quickly that they were alone, Dorian pulled him into his arms with a resigned sigh. Alec had been an idiot, true, but it was practically impossible to stay mad at him in the face of that confession. "Your ability to think _straight_ never was that great to start with." He brushed a soft kiss against Alec's cheek. "You can't let it happen again. You know that, right?"

Alec made a small, distressed noise and pulled back with a pained expression. "Of course I know. Why do you think I-" He turned away and reached for his bow again, but he was trembling so badly he had trouble pulling the string. "Oh, fuck you, Dorian!"

It was too good an opening to resist. "Really? And here I was hoping it would be the other way round."

Alec groaned, though whether it was because of the bad pun or because of his own frustration, it was hard to tell. His posture was so tense Dorian could _see_ the strain in his shoulders, and there was an impatient whine in his voice. "Damn it, Dorian, how much longer are you going to torment me? Why are you even doing this to me?"

Dorian didn't reply. He wasn't quite certain himself. It had been fun at first, flattering, in a way, to make Alec pine for him. But by now the whole thing was just as much of a torture for him as it was for Alec. He couldn't even count the number of times he'd woken up at night, bathed in sweat and hopelessly aroused by yet another dream of having Alec in his arms, in his bed, ready and willing.

But at the same time, an almost superstitious fear held him back from consummating their relationship. Once Alec had what he wanted, wouldn't he tire of him quickly? Or even if he didn't, wouldn't it somehow cheapen what they had, turn it into an _arrangement_ like all the others Dorian had been part of? He'd slept with so many men, and once the first rush of desire had worn off, they invariably had lost interest in him, and vice versa. And from what he'd gathered, Alec was hardly an innocent either.

"Come on." He sighed deeply. "It's getting dark. Let's get you back inside, and find out how Cassandra is doing."

* * *

_Ser Galahad's chest was heaving, his turgid member straining against the skirt of his armour. "My love. I would-"_

_Esmeralda lowered her emerald gaze, too modest to admit to the rush of desire blazing through her at the sight of him. "My knight. Anything you want."_

_The young Templar hesitated. What of his vows, what of the future? He was bound to the Order, he could never hope to court her. They could never be together as man and wife, the way the Maker had ordained it. All they could ever have was this: stolen moments; secret trysts. How could he do this to her? She was so young, so sweet, so pure._

_"Galahad!" There was a hint of impatience in Esmeralda's dulcet tones. "I said, anything you want." Her lip was trembling. "Take me, Galahad. Take me now!"_

Cullen lowered the book with a shake of his head, turning it to look at the cover. _The Templar and the Maiden._ He snorted incredulously. _What_ \- His eyes widened further when he took a look at the spines of the other books in Cassandra's shelf. _Swords and Shields, Smite Me, The Knight of Hearts, The Viscount's Secret_ … Randomly, he picked another book and opened it, skimming a few paragraphs. _His tongue laved her rosy bud… her soft whimpers spurred him on… his hard manhood pressed against her softness… her cries of ecstasy echoing in his ears._ Quickly, he put the book down again, cursing himself for giving in to his curiosity.

Cassandra was still in the infirmary, getting crankier with each passing day. Which was good, of course, because that meant she was getting better. Cullen's heart still hurt when he recalled the day they had returned to Skyhold. Cassandra had been strapped to a stretcher, her face a mask of pain, her skin ashen, her eyes closed. For a moment there, he'd thought-

But she was alive, and she would recover, and this morning she'd asked for her writing utensils to compose a letter to her family. The nurses and aides had been busy treating the burns of several scouts who'd just come back from a run-in with a rage demon, so Cullen had set out for her quarters himself to get her what she needed. And then he'd stumbled across the book.

He hadn't meant to read it at first, had only wanted to put it away properly, before the spine was damaged, but then he'd glanced at the page and had been unable to stop himself. And now he felt… ashamed for intruding into her private life, and more than a little confused by his discovery. Did Cassandra really enjoy this _trash_ , this sentimental drivel? It defied belief, and yet he'd seen her so often with her face buried in one of those books, that special little smile playing around her lips…

Cullen inhaled sharply. A flutter of excitement rose in his chest. This was a side of Cassandra he'd never seen before, one he'd never allowed himself to speculate about. Which was a good thing, probably, because now that the thoughts were there, they were rapidly driving him to distraction. As he left the room and made for the infirmary, his mind kept going back to the words on the page.

Did she dream of someone making love to her when she was all alone at night, curled up in her bed with that _book_? Oh, Maker! He shouldn't have thought of Cassandra and a bed in the same breath because now he was picturing her in a thin shift, her strong, lithe body relaxed against the pillows, her face wearing that adorable concentrated frown he knew so well.

Did she fantasize about some strong, young warrior carrying her off to his bed to _take_ her, like the lapsed Templar in the book? Cullen almost groaned aloud at the thought, but at the same time it left a stale taste in his mouth. Blight it, why did it have to be a _Templar_ , of all things? Did she get a kick out of this, was it just some cheap thrill for her?

Firmly, he told himself to stop that line of thought. Not Cassandra. It had to be something else about those novels that attracted her, something-

"She loves the romance." Cullen almost jumped when he heard Cole's strangely monotonous voice, right next to his ear. "The flowers, the poems, the whispered vows of love. She dreams of being wooed."

"Cole, you can't-" He almost launched into the usual speech about privacy, but then he saw the expression on the boy's face, so full of genuine sympathy for his plight, and he stopped mid-sentence. "Thank you."

Cole nodded and was gone already. Making his way across the courtyard, Cullen felt a sharp tug at his heartstrings. _She dreams of being wooed_. If only he could be the one to- but no. Someone else would come along in due time and give her what she wanted. Someone young and dashing, someone without all the baggage he carried. And she would be happy, and that would be enough for him. It had to be.

                                                                                                                                                   


	9. Chapter 9

"So… that stable boy… You fancied him, didn't you?" Sera's face was scrunched up in a pensive frown.

"How do you even-" Alec shook his head. He'd been sure no one had witnessed that little scene. Though, come to think of it, hadn't there been a shadow among the rafters? "Never mind. Yes, he was cute. Why do you ask?"

Sera shrugged. "Just wondering why you didn't get it on with him. I mean, hot, yeah? And you're not so bad either. Bet he was _gagging_ for it." She made a graphic gesture that would have made a more innocent man blush.

Alec made a face. "Ugh. Yeah. Maybe."

"So why not?" For someone with the attention span of a drunken Fade wisp, Sera could be astonishingly persistent sometimes.

"Short answer?" Alec sighed. "He wanted the Inquisitor, not me. That's not what I want."

"Huh?" Sera knitted her brows again. "Seems to me that most of the time you noble ponces don't care about that kind of thing."

"I do." He flashed her a smile. "Quite a lot, actually."

"Yeah, well." Sera sniffed daintily. "You're all right, I guess. For a nob."

"Well, thank you very much! Coming from you, that's high praise indeed, my lady." Alec doffed an imaginary hat to her with a graceful flourish.

"Get off!" Sera's disgusted grimace made him laugh.

Alec liked Sera. Sure, sometimes she got on his nerves with her weird remarks and her sudden changes of topic, but most of the time they got on splendidly, always had. Well, ever since that awkward moment when she'd assumed he was trying to flirt with her. The memory of that particular conversation still made him grin.

_"Eugh. Not going to happen, Your Wondrousness. We have a bit too much in common, seeing as we both like women.”_

_"Ah, you’ve got that wrong, Sera. If you put it like that, we have nothing much in common at all."_

They'd become fast friends since, practicing together with their bows and sharing small delicacies she'd stolen from the kitchen while they were laughing together about Red Jenny's latest activities.

Sera's expression turned uncharacteristically serious. "So it's true what they say about you and the Vint. That you're shagging him. Or he's shagging you?"

Alec laughed, but it came out bitter. "Wish it were true."

"Pity." Sera seemed surprised. "He's fun. None of that scary magister crap." She sighed wistfully. "Bugger this. What you need is a distraction. Take your mind off this shit, right?"

Alec leaned back in his seat, eyeing her with interest. His curiosity was piqued. "Well, go on. I'm listening."

* * *

The steep stairs up to Cullen's tower left her slightly out of breath. Cassandra frowned impatiently. She should be back in shape already. Really, it wasn't as if she'd never been wounded before.

Cullen was alone, leafing through a thick volume on strategy, but when he glanced up and saw her, he put it aside and smiled. "Cassandra. Feeling better?"

"I'm fine, thanks." She regretted her brusqueness immediately, when she saw his face fall. "There was really nothing to worry about," she added more graciously. "I've been through worse."

"I don't doubt it." His expression was adorably serious, so much concern in his beautiful hazel eyes, and-

 _Wait a minute!_ Cassandra firmly checked her train of thought. Really, she had to become more selective about her reading material. She was beginning to sound like the Randy Dowager's Quarterly.

"Did I miss anything important?" She leaned against the wall, trying not to look too obviously relieved when the weight was taken off her legs. They were still a bit shaky, but Cullen didn't need to know that.

He gave her a slightly suspicious look, and seemed about to say something, but then obviously decided to leave it be. "Not really. The usual reports of new rifts, bandits on the roads, darkspawn on the- Damn it, what's going on here?"

Cullen was bent over his desk, perusing a map of the Fallow Mire, but something seemed to be bothering him. Huffing impatiently, he jolted the desk a little, then muttered something under his breath.

"What is it?" Cassandra was glad he couldn't see the tiny wince of pain on her face as she pushed herself away from the wall and wandered closer.

"My desk. It's all wobbly," he answered absent-mindedly, dropping into a crouch to examine the desk's legs more closely.

"Wobbly? Come on, Cullen. That thing is rock solid. Good Fereldan oak." Cassandra had trouble hiding her amusement, to be honest. He sounded so grumpy. It was quite endearing, really.

Also, she was rather enjoying the scene in front of her. Cullen wasn't wearing his heavy armour here in his own quarters, just a plain linen shirt. From her position, she had a perfect view of his wide shoulders and his head, bent over his task. She could even make out individual blond curls on the pale skin of his neck, slightly damp with sweat, and for a moment she was sorely tempted to run her fingers along his collar, to-

"Ha! Got it!" He lifted the desk, just a little bit, but it _was_ heavy, and she swallowed hard when she saw the muscles in his broad back bunch up under the thin shirt. _Maker, but he's strong_.

But now he was holding up a tiny, folded piece of paper that had been squeezed under the desk's front leg, upsetting the balance. "What the-" Cullen unfolded it and quickly read it, his frown deepening. "Sera."

"What?" His teeth were clenched so tightly that it took Cassandra a moment to understand what he was saying.

"Sera," Cullen repeated, tossing the paper at her with a scowl. "See for yourself."

A few words were scrawled across the paper. _General Uptight. Go take a break and unwind a bit._

Cassandra had to struggle hard not to giggle. "Yes. Definitely Sera."

"That little brat! Alec really needs to stop encouraging her! Just wait till I get my hands on her…" Cullen's expression vacillated between anger and embarrassment. _I bet he already regrets showing it to me._

Cassandra made a small, soothing noise. "Oh, come on, Cullen. You got off easy. You know what they did to Josephine?"

"No." He shook his head, but he seemed to calm down a little. "Do I even want to know?"

"A water bucket on top of her door." Cassandra's lips twitched at the memory of Josie, her silk blouse drenched and her eyes spelling bloody murder. "Not original, but effective."

"Ouch." Cullen chuckled, a little self-consciously. "Well, I guess you're right. I really was lucky."

"You were," she confirmed. "Besides, Sera's not wrong, don't you think?"

"About me being uptight, you mean?" There was the tiniest flash of hurt in his eyes. "Look, Cassandra, I know-"

"I didn't mean that," she hastily corrected herself. "No, it's just… You need to relax. Take a break every so often, stop working yourself so hard."

"But we-" He broke off, rubbing his neck wearily. "I guess you're right. So… What do you suggest I should do?"

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, she held her breath, flustered by the intensity of his gaze. A number of less than innocuous suggestions were racing through her head, but she caught herself immediately, shocked at her own reaction.

"Come for a walk on the battlements with me." Cassandra was proud of how blithe and cheery her tone was. "The evening air will do you good. And you can check the progress of the fortifications at the same time, if you need an excuse," she added with a wink.

"I don't." There was a sudden, deep rasp in Cullen's voice that did interesting things to her insides. "All right. Let's go."

He grabbed his coat from a rack in the corner and opened the door, his hand brushing against her shoulder as he politely gestured for her to precede him.

Cassandra's heart beat faster. She was looking forward to this walk, more than she cared to admit. Of course, this was just two good friends enjoying a little stroll together. _Yes. Definitely._ After all, they both had more important things to worry about than romantic entanglements.

* * *

"You sold it?" Alec wasn't even bothering to hide his grin.

Dorian threw him a dark look. "It's not funny. That amulet was my family legacy. I shouldn't have done it." Maker, this was embarrassing. It was bad enough that he'd been so foolish, but for Alec to find out about it…

Alec shrugged, looking unperturbed. "I sold part of the Trevelyan family silver once. Needed the money for a new bow."

Dorian stared at him. "And your parents?"

Alec smiled nostalgically. "Oh, Father was furious, of course. Kept screaming at me. _Ungrateful wretch, squandering your inheritance on useless trinkets!_ I thought he was going to pop a vein and drop dead on the spot. Mother looked rather relieved, to be honest. Maker, but that stuff was ugly."

"Alec!" Dorian sighed. "It's not the same thing."

"No. Probably not." Alec grinned cheerfully at him. "So, what do we do about this Ponchard guy?"

" _We_ do nothing." Dorian shook his head. " _I_ will take care of this. There's no need for you to get involved."

Alec managed a truly impressive eye roll. "Dorian. Of course I'm going to help you. What is this nonsense?"

He wouldn't be dissuaded. No matter how often Dorian pointed out that his help wasn't necessary, that it would look bad for the Inquisitor to get involved in an affair like this, that Dorian preferred to handle it alone… Alec just shook his head, obstinate like a mule.

"The message was addressed to me." He was clearly determined. "Oh, come on, Dorian. There's some stuff I need to do in Val Royeaux anyway."

The meeting with Ponchard confirmed Dorian's worst fears. The man freely admitted that he'd only used the amulet to garner a favour from Alec. They listened in appalled silence as he outlined his plans to enlist the Inquisitor's help for joining some elitist noble boys' club.

 _You slimy, rotten little sycophant!_ Dorian felt his upper lip curl in disgust, as he fought the urge to grab Ponchard by the neck and shake him violently. He was so furious that for the first time in ages, he felt sparks of magic jump to his fingertips against his own volition. Ponchard blanched noticeably when he noticed them, but kept up his brave front, until Alec stepped in.

Dorian had never seen this side of him. The man he knew was affable, easy-going, totally unconcerned with his ancestry and its privileges. Alec preferred a night in the pub with Varric or Sera to any noble soiree, a sausage at the campfire to a sumptuous dinner party, a raucous night out with Bull and the Chargers to all the honours and accolades he was due as Inquisitor. Now, however…

Alec raised himself to his full height, resting his hand nonchalantly on the grip of his dagger. The way he held his head spoke of generations of aristocratic breeding, and his bright blue eyes were cold as ice.

"How dare you?" Alec didn't raise his voice, but it wasn't necessary. The arrogant, cutting edge of utter contempt in his tone was more than sufficient. "The Celestine League won't accept you, because you're too _common_ , too _plebeian_ , and you dare to presume that I, Alec Trevelyan, would sully my good name by supporting you? Do you honestly believe that I'd lower myself to this kind of _scheming_?"

Behind them, Vivienne made a small approving noise, while Cassandra looked just as flabbergasted as Dorian felt. No, he didn't know this Alec, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know him, and yet… _He is kind of hot like this_ , a small voice whispered in his head. _Scarily hot._

Ponchard took an instinctive step backwards. His face had taken on a greenish colour. "I… Please forgive me, your Worship. I didn't intend... The amulet will be delivered to Skyhold without delay."

Alec didn't deign to reply. He kept up his lofty demeanour until Ponchard had disappeared around a corner. Then he allowed himself to relax, slumping against a column with a deep, relieved sigh. "Andraste's tits. That was painful. I just hope Sera never hears of this, or she'll have my balls for it."

"Alec, I-" Dorian tried to thank him, but Alec brushed his gratitude aside with a quick gesture.

"It's fine. We'll talk later, as soon as the amulet has been returned." He smiled, and Dorian was relieved to see that he was back to his former self. "Now, let's see whether Barnabus has something useful for us today, shall we?"

There were no problems with the delivery of the amulet. Only three days after their return, a messenger from Ponchard handed it to Dorian, together with a profuse apology from his master. As if drawn to him by invisible strings, Alec showed up a short while later.

Dorian didn't really know what to say. Having the amulet back meant a lot to him, more than he had anticipated. Now that his relationship with his father was damaged beyond repair, it was his only connection to his past, his family, his country. And he owed it all to Alec. Alec who had been perfectly sweet about the whole thing, and yet...

"Thank you for your help. With the amulet. I appreciate it." Dorian knew he sounded stiff and ungrateful, and predictably, Alec's eyes narrowed.

"What's the matter?" He sounded hurt and confused. "Aren't you glad you've got it back? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't." Dorian sighed. "It's just… Now I'm in your debt, and I… I never wanted this."

"Is that all?" Alec's frown deepened. "Maker, Dorian, I don't expect anything in return. Yes, I did it for you. Because I care for you. Because you're my friend. What's wrong with that?"

"Don't you understand?" Dorian impatiently shook his head. _Surely he's not so naïve that he can't see that_. "Everyone will think I did it on purpose. Get into the Inquisitor's good graces, have him dance to my tune. If people start to think that a mage from Tevinter is behind your decisions-"

"How often do I have to tell you? I don't care if a few idiots think like that." Alec was right in front of him, so close they were almost touching. "I know you're different, Dorian. I know you would never-"

"It's not just a few idiots." It physically pained Dorian to go on, but surely, he had to make Alec see? He couldn't just let him ruin it all over some silly infatuation. "You heard Mother Giselle. You've seen the way people look at me." His voice nearly broke on his last words. "I don't want to be the magister who's using you."

"Oh blight it, Dorian!" Alec almost shouted, genuinely angry now and clearly unconcerned that they might be overheard. "Of all the… Go ahead and _use_ me. Come on. Or are you all talk?"

"I-" Dorian was momentarily lost for words. Instinctively he turned aside, pretending that the books in the shelf next to him had suddenly become exceedingly interesting. "Look, Alec, I don't think we should-"

"Yeah, I thought as much." Alec turned to go, disappointment written clearly on his face.

Dorian knew with sudden clarity that it was time to sort out his priorities, before the opportunity was lost forever. Two quick steps took him to Alec's side, and he gripped his sleeve, harder than he'd meant to. "Your room. Tonight." He felt almost feverish. "Yes?"

Alec nodded curtly, but for once, he didn't smile. "Yes. I'll be waiting."


	10. Chapter 10

It was as if the day would never end. Restlessly, Alec wandered all through Skyhold, looking for a distraction, every nerve in his body buzzing with anticipation. Everywhere he went, his fevered imagination provided yet another intimate scenario: kissing Dorian up on the battlements; pushing him up against a wall in the stables; dragging him into a hidden corner of the garden to make out among the flowers. When he caught a tantalizing glimpse of Dorian in the Great Hall, on his way to the Undercroft, he had to take a detour to his room and cool down a bit first, or risk embarrassing himself in front of Dagna and Harritt.

It was a relief when Josephine asked him to go through some papers with her. For two blissful hours, he managed to banish all thoughts of Dorian from his mind while he listened to her reports and helped her sort through the mountain of invitations and petitions on her desk. Of course, she could have managed perfectly well without him. Josephine worked hard and was incredibly proficient at her task, and Alec was under no illusion as to his own diplomatic skills, or lack thereof. But it was kind of her to ask for his opinion, and he had realized early on that he could learn a lot by listening to her advice. He would never match her patience and tact, but he was beginning to feel a little more confident in his dealings with all those heads of state and high-ranking Chantry personages.

Besides, Josephine was fun to talk to. With a little effort, she could usually be persuaded to share some of her juicier anecdotes. And she liked it when he complimented her looks and her fashion sense. Her smile, radiant and beautiful, was all the reward he needed, and she seemed to thrive on his appreciation.

“That's all for today, I believe.” With a contented sigh, Josephine put the last letter aside. “Thank you so much, Inquisitor. It's nice to have someone to talk to.”

“My pleasure, Josephine.” Glancing at the sky, Alec realized it was still a good long while until nightfall. He didn't really want to go back to his room, back to his restless vigil. “Oh, look, there's another one.” He pointed to a sealed envelope that lay a little to the left of the others. “Shall we have a look?”

But to his surprise, Josephine shook her head, blushing a little. “I beg your pardon, Inquisitor, but this one is not Inquisition business. A… family matter.”

Alec would have let it rest, if not for the flash of genuine distress on her features as she spoke. “A family matter… Anything I can help you with, Josephine? You look worried.”

He knew that the Montilyets were somehow involved in trade in their native Antiva, and he also knew that Josephine, as their eldest daughter, was taking care of the family fortune, on top of all her other duties. Just one more thing she handled admirably well, and it couldn't be easy for her.

“It's nothing.” Her face clearly contradicted her words. “A small disagreement, but I wouldn't want to inconvenience you with it.”

"Damn it, Josephine, not you, too." Before he could stop himself, his fist had already come down on the desk between them, making the candles flutter and Josephine cry out in distress. “I'm sorry.” Taking two deep breaths, Alec forced himself to calm down. “But really! First Dorian, now you. Every peasant in the Hinterlands will happily ask for my help, but my closest friends won't let me be there for them! None of you trusts me enough."

Josephine’s eyes grew wide. “That's not… My apologies, Alec. I didn't mean to-“

“It's fine.” He was already regretting his outburst. “But really, won't you tell me what this is about?”

Josephine complied and he listened with growing apprehension as she told him about some obscure assassination contract that threatened not just her business interests, but her life. “Blight it, Josephine! And you think it isn't Inquisition business if someone threatens to kill my chief diplomat?”

“I…” Josephine seemed lost for words for a moment, staring down at the floor with unseeing eyes. But when she raised her head again, her voice was firm. “You are right. I was stupid not to come to you straight away. Of course this concerns you, and of course it will be a big help if you are at my side. Will you travel to Val Royeaux with me to find out more?”

“Of course I will. As soon as I can possibly make it.” Alec was wholly unprepared for the sudden surge of pride caused by her request. It was… nice to be needed, nice to see that she trusted him. He wouldn't disappoint her.

Somehow, Alec managed to get through the last remaining hours of daylight. He took a bath and spent several agonizing minutes figuring out what to wear, before he settled for plain leather breeches and a simple white shirt. Briefly, he worried about his hair. Dorian was always impeccably groomed. Wouldn't he expect Alec to make an effort, other than running a brush through it? In the end, he decided that it would be silly to go out of his way to be different. So far, Dorian had seemed to like his appearance well enough.

When Dorian finally arrived, Alec had worn grooves into the thick carpet with his constant pacing. To his relief, the mage no longer wasted any time, but pulled him into a tight embrace the moment the door fell shut behind him.

"Have you finally made up your mind then?" Alec didn't want to seem too eager, but there was no way to hide the trembling of his lips or the tension in his body. "Have you decided you want me after all?"

"Alec." Dorian's mouth was hot on his throat, and the mere promise of what that mouth would feel like elsewhere on his body made Alec sway on his feet. "I've wanted you for _months_. I just like playing hard to get."

Alec moaned helplessly. "And now?"

Dorian's face was buried against his neck, but his smile was audible. "Now I'm gotten."

Alec made a small noise in the back of his throat, too overcome to speak, and fortunately Dorian understood him without words and dragged him over to the bed in the corner.

* * *

Dorian was dizzy with need, unable to keep his hands off Alec any longer, now that he'd finally taken the leap. So much soft, pale golden skin, and Maker, Alec was more than willing, warm and pliant in his grip, squirming with delight whenever Dorian found a new sensitive spot. It took them no time at all to get naked, and he was even more gorgeous than Dorian had imagined, so hard and taut all over, and his cock was sheer perfection, long and slim and beautiful.

"Alec. You-" Dorian cursed his own inarticulateness. With every fibre of his being, he wanted to tell Alec how perfect, how wonderful he was. He wanted to worship every inch of that exquisite body with his lips, with his hands, his teeth, he wanted to make him all his, no barriers left.

Burying his hand deep in Alec's hair, he held him tight as he plundered his mouth, again and again, unable to get enough of the taste of him. Alec was moaning helplessly, returning his kisses just as fiercely. Dorian could have spent hours just kissing him.

But at the same time, he couldn't wait, he needed more, now. With an almost desperate sigh, he let go of Alec's mouth and slid off the bed until he was kneeling on the carpet. When he wrapped his lips around that lovely, lovely cock, Alec made a strangled noise, his head sinking back, and his left hand clenching hard in Dorian's hair. Dorian shivered briefly when he felt the mark flare up, but Alec didn't even seem to notice, and he pushed the thought aside. He didn't want to think about it, not now, not with Alec's cock heavy and pulsing in his mouth, not with the salty taste of him on his tongue, not when Alec was making such delicious little noises as he sucked and kissed and nibbled.

He could have gone on forever, but somehow Alec managed to pull his head back and drag him up on the bed, right on top of him. Suddenly they were skin to skin, from head to toe. Dorian felt his cock slide between Alec's thighs, where the skin was smooth and soft as velvet, and it felt so amazing he whimpered with need, thrusting involuntarily.

Alec was staring feverishly up at him, and he was so _hot_ , like a furnace, burning with desire. "I want you inside me."

Dorian held his breath. He hadn't expected things would go quite so far tonight, hadn't allowed himself to want this, to dream of this, but now, with Alec here on the bed, writhing under him, he knew he had to have him. The rush of want was so overwhelming that he hesitated, suddenly afraid of his own feelings. He wanted Alec with a hunger that went far beyond simple desire, and that was as scary as it was wonderful.

"Dorian! Please. I need you." The expression in Alec's eyes and the soft, inviting tilt of his hips were more than Dorian could bear, and he nodded shakily, unable to speak.

With a small impatient noise, Alec twisted in his arms to reach for the nightstand and produced a bottle of oil, then proceeded to pour a generous amount into his own hand, reaching down between them to touch himself. And it was mind-blowingly hot to watch him, but at the same time, it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Dorian bit his lip hard and pulled back a little. "Let me."

Alec seemed surprised, but complied willingly, and moments later Dorian had his hands on Alec, and then a careful finger inside him, and it was… Alec felt so _good_ , so warm, so tight, so silky soft, and his eyes were open and trusting, and he was so incredibly _hard_ , and when Dorian slipped a second finger inside him, he arched up to meet him with a long, breathless whine.

"Oh Maker, yes. Please don't stop." Alec sounded almost desperate.

Dorian had no intention of stopping, at least not until Alec clenched tightly around his fingers and, in a rough whisper, begged for _more_. He pulled his hand back then, and immediately replaced it with his cock. It took all his control to go slow, and Alec's soft, low whimpers didn't make it any easier, but finally, _finally_ , he was where he wanted to be, exactly where he wanted to be. He paused for a long moment, breathing deeply, and Alec clung to him, fingers digging deep into the small of his back.

He started to move, carefully adjusting the angle until it felt right, and they fell into a rhythm, easy and natural. Most of his other bed partners had preferred Dorian to be on the receiving end of things, and while he certainly had enjoyed it, this was… different. The look of trust in Alec's eyes, the complete and utter abandon in his posture would have been enough to drive him crazy. And Alec kept begging and urging him on, more vocal than he had expected, until Dorian wrapped his hand firmly around his cock, stroking him in time to his thrusts. Then he rapidly moved beyond coherency, beyond words, groaning, whining, babbling, until one last well-placed thrust sent him over the edge.

He was gloriously beautiful like this, his whole body taut and covered in his own release, his eyes rolling up in ecstasy, his mouth open in a silent scream, and the mere sight was enough to make Dorian come as well. And he came so hard he actually lost track of time for a moment as pleasure tore through his body with such force it left him weak and shaken.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, without bothering to clean up or find clothes. Dorian only just managed to pull a sheet over their bare bodies before the Fade claimed him.

* * *

The rookery, high up under the roof of the thick tower that housed the library, wasn't a particularly inviting place. Icy gusts of wind blew in through the many arched windows, and there always was a faint smell of bird droppings, no matter how often the straw on the floor was changed.

But Leliana's little nook in the corner was well protected from the elements and spotlessly clean, and Cassandra enjoyed sitting up there with her and discussing the day’s events. Leliana could always be relied upon to offer some special insight, some angle no one else had considered, and even if they rarely agreed on a course of action, Cassandra valued her point of view immensely.

Besides, there was no better source of gossip in all of Skyhold, and for all her sober demeanor, Cassandra appreciated that just as much as anyone else. Tonight, Leliana was in the middle of entertaining her with a particularly juicy anecdote from the Orlesian court, when one of her agents, a slim elven girl, walked in with a sly smile on her face. Wordlessly, she handed Leliana a note, then disappeared again.

Glancing apologetically at Cassandra, Leliana unfolded the paper and quickly skimmed through the missive. About halfway through, she began to smile, too.

"What is it?" Cassandra's curiosity was piqued. Whatever it was, it seemed to amuse Leliana quite a bit.

"It's Dorian." Leliana winked cheekily at her. "He's with the Inquisitor. In his quarters."

"Oh." Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up. "Do you mean they are-"

"The message doesn't say, but judging from the grin on that servant's face, yes, I'd say they definitely are." Leliana was obviously having the time of her life. "And about time, too. Scout Harding will be so pleased."

"Scout Harding?" Cassandra was confused. "Why would she care?"

Leliana rolled her eyes. "Why not? Half of my agents have been rooting for those two. Myself included. And I believe Harding has about twenty sovereigns riding on a happy outcome before the month is over.”

"I see." Cassandra coughed discreetly. "Does Alec know you're having him watched?"

"I'm sure he's worked it out by now." Leliana shrugged, wholly unconcerned. "You know, he's a lot more intelligent than you give him credit for. Just because he's cute and has a serious case of puppy eyes going on-"

“I know he's not stupid,” Cassandra interrupted her. “Irresponsible, maybe, and a bit naïve at times, but not stupid. Anyway, I don't envy him. To have every detail of your life discussed by the whole world...”

“Oh, they gossip about all of us.” Leliana shrugged, unconcerned. “What do you expect? People need something to talk about, so they chat about you, me, Josie, Cullen. All of us.”

“All of us?” Cassandra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She couldn't imagine anyone being interested in her personal affairs. Not that there were any.

As if she had read her mind, Leliana chuckled provocatively. “Aw, come on, Cassandra. It's only natural that they're curious. As a matter of fact, so am I, and I know so little about you. Don't _you_ get lonely sometimes?”

“If I did, it would hardly be in my best interest to tell you. “ Cassandra got to her feet, worrying briefly whether she had been too abrupt. “You'll have to rely on your little birds to keep you informed.” She smiled apologetically.

Leliana's answering smile was more than a little malicious. “And I'm sure they will.”


	11. Chapter 11

Alec woke up earlier than usual, no doubt because he'd forgotten to draw the heavy curtains shut last night. The room was brightly lit, and a little chilly. Squinting in the sunlight, he rolled over to cuddle up against Dorian some more, but the bed was empty. Immediately, fear gripped his heart like an ice-cold fist. _So he's run away after all._ Of course. It had been foolish to expect Dorian to stay for the night. He was probably regretting their night together already and-

"Alec. You're awake." The sudden surge of relief on hearing Dorian's voice was so great that Alec had to bite back a sob.

There he was, right next to the window. He hadn't left, he was still here. And now he was walking over to the bed, and Maker, he was completely, gloriously naked. Alec knew he was staring, but he didn't care, and he wouldn't have been able to stop himself anyway. _So fucking beautiful._ Dorian’s body was everything he'd ever dreamed of, well-muscled, with strong shoulders and a smooth, firm chest, tapering down nicely to a slim waist. And now he turned around, surveying the room with an air of smug satisfaction, and the view from behind was even more spectacular.

Alec made a small strangled noise, and Dorian threw him an amused glance over his shoulder. _Look at the way he's smirking. He knows exactly how hot he is._

"What's the matter?" Yup, Dorian was positively _preening_.

"You… Blight it Dorian, I shouldn't even tell you, because you're quite big-headed enough already, but you-" Alec swallowed hard. "You’re so incredibly gorgeous."

"You think?" Dorian purred, looking uncannily like a sleek, well-fed cat. "Thank you. I like to keep in shape."

"How do you even do it?" Alec frowned as the thought occurred to him. "It's not as if you ever lift a finger unless you have to. Is there some trick that only mages know about? A secret spell?"

Dorian stretched voluptuously. "Ah, wouldn't you like to know? But yes, let's stick with spells, by all means. Evil blood magic, to keep me forever young and beautiful. It's traditional, isn't it? And you seem quite happy with the results."

Alec snorted. "Why don't you come back to bed and let me have a closer look?"

Dorian complied with a grin, sliding under the covers with him, and that was nice, too, even though it meant Alec couldn't ogle him anymore. "I was admiring your quarters, actually. They look comfortable. Hardly Fereldan at all."

"Move in with me, then." Alec didn't even think before the words left his lips. It seemed a perfectly reasonable course of action to him.

Dorian went stiff, laughing nervously. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Alec shrugged. "But, really, why don't you move in with me? I want you here, every night, every morning." The mere thought made his mouth water.

"Are you serious?" Dorian swallowed. "I thought, now that you've had your fun-"

"Dorian!" To say that he was irritated would have been an understatement. "Blight it, if it was fun I was after, I could have gotten it elsewhere, easily. I want a lot more." Alec felt his throat go tight. "I want all of you."

"The things you say…" Dorian looked at him for a long moment, then sighed deeply. "You mean it, don't you?"

"Of course I do." Alec reached out to run his finger softly down Dorian's cheek.

"But…" Dorian leaned into his touch, but there was still a deep crease between his brows. "If I stay here with you, everyone will know about us."

"And why shouldn't they? Look, I won't flaunt it. I'll be discreet if you want me to. But you're not my dirty little secret." Alec felt another quick surge of anger.

Dorian glanced at him, and, to his surprise, laughed softly. "Not much of a secret anyway. I doubt there's anyone in Skyhold who didn't hear you last night."

_Damn. Was it that bad?_ Alec looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I'm sorry. Do you… mind very much, because if you do-"

"Alec!" Dorian firmly took hold of his chin to make him meet his gaze again. "I very much _don't_ mind. Not at all."

"Oh." Alec couldn't remember the last time he'd gone through such a whirlwind of feelings in such a short time. Anger, embarrassment, fear, and now sheer joy and relief. "Good."

He lay back on the mattress, and Dorian followed suit. For a while they just stayed there, looking at each other, quiet and happy.

Then Dorian reached over, caressing Alec's right eyebrow with his fingertips. "So dashing. How did you get that scar?"

"It's a bit embarrassing, actually." Alec felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "Promise you won't laugh?" When Dorian nodded, he closed his eyes, recalling the events that had led to his injury. "I had just turned sixteen, and I had a… friend, a very good friend, a younger son, like me. Matt. He was two or three years older, and I looked up to him, worshipped him, really. Like a cool older brother." Alec paused, lost in memories for a moment. Looking back, it seemed so utterly clear to him that his feelings hadn't just been brotherly, but back then, he'd still been so confused, so uncertain of his own-

"What happened?" Dorian was listening with quiet attentiveness.

"Well…" Alec felt his blush deepen. "I'd never been with a girl, and when Matt found out, he decided he had to do something about it. He had an understanding with a merchant’s daughter in town. Matt used to shower her with presents, he was really generous, and she would sneak him into her room at night and-". He broke off, glancing at Dorian. "It sounds sordid, doesn't it? But it wasn't that bad. She was in love with him, I think, at least a little. Besides, Matt was a good-looking guy, and he was an arl’s son. Maybe she was secretly hoping for a noble bastard, a guaranteed lifetime pension. Anyway…" He took a deep breath. "Somehow, and I have no idea how, he persuaded her to let me join in the fun. An act of charity, he called it. We'd share her, and Matt could give me a few pointers, and…" He paused again, his cheeks flaming red by now. "Yeah. It sounded like a brilliant idea."

"But it wasn't." Dorian’Is lips were twitching slightly, but he wasn't smiling openly, and Alec was eternally grateful.

"No." He glanced down at the sheets, unable to meet Dorian’s eyes. "Matt went first, you know, to show me how to… And when it was my turn, I was really excited, and eager, and he tried to help me and…" He raised his gaze, forcing himself to look Dorian in the eye. "The moment he touched me, I went off like one of those Orlesian firecrackers. There was simply no holding back."

"Ouch." Dorian was obviously doing his best to look sympathetic. "And the girl?"

Alec winced at the memory. "She… She wasn't happy. She didn't laugh or complain, but the way she looked at me…" He closed his eyes again. "I was mortified, and confused, and right then, I heard a noise from the hallway, and I panicked." He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. "I bolted and made for the window, but I stumbled and fell and went straight through the window pane. Of course the racket set off her parents, and Matt and I just about made it out into the street before they caught us. My face was badly cut and I couldn't see a thing because of all the blood, but somehow we escaped, leaving most of our clothes behind. Needless to say, that put an end to their trysts. Matt was furious."

Dorian could no longer hold back a soft laugh, but there was genuine sympathy in his eyes as he reached over to stroke Alec's cheek. "Poor you. What a nightmare. It's a miracle you didn't end up taking Chantry vows."

"It was a close call." Alec felt better already. "Well, Matt forgave me eventually. My wounded pride took almost as long to heal as my face, though."

"You could have lost an eye." Dorian traced the outline of the scar, through his eyebrow and along his cheek, a hint of concern in his expression now.

"I know," Alec confirmed earnestly. "I was lucky, really. Though for quite a while, I was seriously worried the scar would ruin my looks."

" _Alec_!" Dorian shook his head, torn between anger and amusement.

Alec caught his hand and breathed a kiss on his palm. "Well? Are you going to move into my quarters? Now that you know my deepest, darkest secrets."

He'd put on his most winning smile, but Dorian remained serious. "Alec, I… I need time to think. Please."

Regret struck immediately. _Stop badgering him. You'll only chase him away_. "Of course. All the time you need." Alec couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so anxious. _Just please say yes._

* * *

Jim was the first to tell him, early in the morning when he arrived with the mail. Accompanied by lots of huffing and hemming, he dutifully reported that the whole castle was abuzz with gossip about the Inquisitor and "the Tevinter". Cullen thanked him with a quick nod, but refused to comment on the matter.

Cassandra showed up about an hour later, and seemed relieved when he told her he'd already been informed. Really, it was grotesque. When Cullen crossed the courtyard at lunchtime, a gaggle of maids by the washing lines were giggling and chattering like geese, pointing up at the pretty stained glass windows of the Inquisitor's quarters. _Poor Alec_. What a nightmare, to have to spend his day running the gauntlet of knowing looks and whispered rumours.

As if his thoughts had summoned him, he found Alec in the mess hall near the kitchens, about to fill his plate from the big trenchers laid out on the side table. Cullen joined him with a friendly nod and grabbed a plate of his own. They sat down together at one of the long trestle tables, eating in silence.

Cullen rather admired Alec for coming down here for his repast, instead of having the servants bring him food to his quarters. But he seemed relaxed enough, even faintly amused when one of the guardsmen whistled at him and gave him a thumbs-up. Cullen glared at the man in his stead, and he promptly fell silent and ducked away.

They had nearly finished eating, when Alec finally spoke. "Thank you, Cullen. I appreciate your restraint."

When he responded with a questioning look, Alec elaborated. "You're the first person today who hasn't made some sort of suggestive remark or asked about last night. It makes for a nice change."

Against his will, Cullen felt his face grow hot. "It's none of my business. I'd never presume-"

"And yet you must have an opinion." There were tiny laugh-lines around Alec's eyes, and Cullen mentally shook his head. _If I were in his place… "_ Come on. Tell me."

He cleared his throat. "As I said, it's your own business. But…" He looked straight into Alec's face. "Dorian obviously makes you happy, and you deserve a little happiness, considering the magnitude of your task. Of course, if he was compromising your leadership in any way, it would be different, but-"

"No worries." Alec smiled blithely. "Cassandra would never stand for that."

Cullen didn't even know why he felt such a sharp pang at those words. "No," he agreed, and fortunately, the tremor in his voice was too small for Alec to notice. "No, she wouldn't."

* * *

"Madame Vivienne? You said you wanted to see me in private?" Dorian eyed the Enchanter without attempting to hide his curiosity.

Vivienne tended to be friendly, if guarded, in his presence, but she'd never invited him to her suite before. She had made herself quite comfortable. Her little corner of Skyhold looked as if it had been transported in its entirety from an Orlesian palace.

"I wanted to talk to you, darling, discuss a few things, now that you're the Inquisitor’s official _paramour_." Vivienne clucked disapprovingly and eyed him from head to toe. "That changes quite a lot of things, as I hope you realize."

"With all due respect, Madame de Fer, but I'm hardly Alec’s _official_ anything!" Dorian shook his head. "How do you even know that we-"

"My dear, don't pretend to be more stupid than you are. It doesn't suit you." Vivienne’s perfect left eyebrow shot straight up until it nearly collided with her elaborate headdress. "Of course _everyone_ knows about the two of you. It's all people have been talking about today."

" _Venhedis_!" Dorian swore softly. "I told him we should have been more discreet. But Alec wouldn't have it. He even wants me to move in with him and share his quarters."

He'd expected a scandalized outcry, but instead, Vivienne nodded firmly. "And quite rightly so. Ah, it's obvious our dear Inquisitor comes from a long line of aristocrats. He has excellent political instincts."

" _What_?" Dorian felt his jaw drop and just about managed to avoid an unflattering expression. "Are you telling me you _approve_ of this hare-brained notion of his?"

"But of course, dear!" Vivienne tutted at his reaction. "He's perfectly right. If the Inquisitor wants to enter into such an ill-advised _liaison_ , and yes, I think it's most decidedly ill-advised… If he wants to do so at all, then it's by far the best strategy to be completely open about it." Raising her silk-clad arms as if to deplore his lack of understanding, Vivienne continued. "Just imagine both scenarios, if you will. Scenario One: The Inquisitor has a secret affair with a mage from Tevinter." Vivienne did a fair imitation of a gossiping maid. " _That blood mage has been sneaking into his Worship’s room again. I bet they're up to all kinds of horrible things. Mary saw them kiss, imagine that!"_ She returned to her normal voice. "It would be a gossip’s paradise, rumours, sordid tales, and exciting revelations. Scenario Two: The Inquisitor tells all the world that he's taken a lover and they settle into happy, boring domesticity. Some complain, others approve, but all in all, public interest soon dies down, because there's nothing more to tell, nothing to speculate about." Vivienne shrugged. "Much preferable in my humble opinion."

Dorian didn't know what to answer. What she'd said _did_ make a lot of sense, much as he hated to admit it. And yet… Instinctively, he latched on to the first thing she'd said. "But you do think it's ill-advised. Just like Mother Giselle, you are scandalized by the nature of our relationship."

"My dear, much as I respect the Revered Mother, I'd like to point out that I am _nothing_ like her." Vivienne’s lips had set into a thin line. "I was merely alluding to the fact that you're a citizen of the Empire. I worry about the Inquisition’s good name, yes. But I'm also a woman of the world, and as for your relations with the Inquisitor…" She laughed briefly. "You would have to sink to far greater depths of depravity to scandalize _me_. Contrary to your assumptions, I won't judge you for following your heart. You have nothing to fear from me, if you indeed care for our sweet Alec."

Once again, Dorian was lost for an answer. When he found his voice again, it sounded strangled. "I do. My apologies, Madame Vivienne."

"Accepted." Vivienne nodded regally. "See? It's easy. Move in with him. It won't make things worse, and it will make him happy." For a moment, Dorian almost thought he could detect a hint of warmth in her smile, but it was gone so quickly, he was sure he'd imagined it. "Of course, as I said before, there are a number of ramifications we ought to discuss…"

With a sigh, Dorian resigned himself to another long sermon. One thing was certain: Only the prospect of embracing Alec again tonight was going to carry him through this day.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

The weather wasn't actually the worst of it, though it had reached a whole new level of discomfort, even for Fereldan standards. It was raining constantly (of course it was), and the ground below their feet was soggy and squelched with every step they took. All this _Fallow Mire_ seemed to consist of was bogs and rotting trees and stinking, stale waterholes. What few human dwellings they found had been left to decay, their inhabitants long since dead or worse.

Dorian couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt warm and dry and comfortable. His robes were damp and stained with mud, and he was sure he would never feel clean again. On some days, he could no longer tell whether the stench clogging his nostrils came from the slimy depths of the bog or from their own unwashed bodies. Or maybe from the undead who kept attacking them whenever one of their party was careless enough to disturb their watery graves.

"Why so glum, Your Highness? Our humble camp not luxurious enough for a spoiled prince like you?" Blackwall was obviously highly amused by his own paltry sense of humour.

Dorian glared at him, while simultaneously edging a little closer to the fire. "Easy for you to laugh. You can't even begin to know what this place is like for a mage."

He didn't even know why he bothered talking to Blackwall. As if a dumb, hairy lummox like him would ever understand. Far easier to blame it all on Dorian's upbringing. _A pampered nobleman from Tevinter._ As if that explained everything.

Sure, Dorian missed the comforts of home. But that wasn't the reason why he was on edge, why he kept lashing out at all his companions. No, it was the constant low buzz of the Fade that tore at his nerves. The Veil had a thin, ragged feeling in this place, and he could sense demons and spirits just on the other side of it, begging and pleading for him to open a door for them. The very air was crackling with tension.

Unsurprisingly, Blackwall was completely deaf to all of it, and utterly tactless to boot. "Well, it seems you're not the first of your kind who lost his marbles around here. At least we put the last one out of her misery."

"Will you shut up about her?" Dorian fought in vain to suppress his rage, knowing it would only strengthen the demons' attempts to wear him down.

Blackwall took one look at his face and obviously decided to find someone else to bother. Dorian was relieved to see him go.

The whole affair with the apostate, Widris, had left him badly shaken. They had stumbled upon her camp somewhere deep in the Mire, and things had ended badly. Dorian still carried the remnants of the mage's journal with him, though he hardly knew why, since her ramblings only depressed him further. _If they saw what I've done, the demons I've harnessed, they'd be green with envy._ Dorian found himself by turns mad at the woman for giving in so easily to the whisperings of the Fade creatures, and full of compassion for her poor tortured soul. She'd been so sure she knew how to handle the wraiths she'd summoned, so determined to fight anyone who tried to save her.

They'd had no choice but to kill her. She'd been too far gone for any kind of help. Dorian had seen the regret in Alec's eyes, but somehow that had made him only more furious. Rationally, he knew that he himself was stronger than this woman had been, knew that he wouldn't have succumbed to temptation as easily, but he still felt sullied by association. Because like her, he was a mage, one of those strange, alien creatures, always just one step away from becoming an abomination. Like her, he would never be normal, never like the others.

"Dorian?" Two warm hands came to rest on his shoulders, almost protectively. Alec bent down to talk softly into his ear, sounding worried. "Is there anything I can do? Would you like to sleep in my tent tonight? We could keep each other warm."

It wasn't said in a suggestive manner, but even so, Alec's gentle offer was the last straw.

Shaking him off, Dorian turned and hissed at him, unable to control himself. "No, thanks. I've had quite enough of the odour of wet dog today, thank you very much."

He regretted his words immediately. True, Alec _did_ smell of dog a bit, thanks to Slobber's enthusiastic attentions, and Dorian much preferred him cleaned up and well groomed. But really, the thought of spending the night in his arms was more than a little tempting. He knew how good Alec would feel, how nice it would be to have a warm, strong body next to his.

But on the other hand, why would Alec even want to touch him? Dorian had never felt dirtier and nastier than he did now, and the thought made him shudder, effectively driving away every spark of tenderness or desire.

"I'm sorry." Alec looked hurt and frustrated. "I didn't-" He broke off, averting his eyes.

_Blight it, he means well. Of course he can't understand._ Dorian hated himself for his behaviour, and yet he couldn't bring himself to smile and apologize and pretend he was fine.

"Look, Alec, this place is a nightmare. I feel like the deeper end of the Void. My boots are leaky, my robes are ruined, and on top of it all-" No, it was no use. With an impatient huff, he got to his feet and fled toward the dubious shelter of his own tent. "Don't bother. I just want to be left alone."

* * *

Cassandra involuntarily rolled her eyes at Dorian's dramatic exit. Alec stared forlornly at his retreating back, then sat down at her side with a deep, melodramatic sigh. _Sweet Andraste! It's like traveling with a troupe of temperamental Orlesian actors, only without the masks._ In moments like these, it was painfully obvious how young they both still were, how impulsive, how emotional. Cassandra could _feel_ the frustration emanating from Alec in waves. He kept glancing at Dorian's tent, clearly struggling with the temptation to follow him.

"Leave him be." Alec's head snapped up at her words and for a moment, his eyes flashed with resentment. "Trust me." Cassandra did her best to sound soothing. "He'll come around, once he's had a good night’s sleep."

Alec nodded, but he still looked miserable, and a bit embarrassed. "If you say so." He didn't sound convinced, but he said nothing more, and soon enough, he snuck off to his own tent, leaving her all by herself.

Cassandra snorted. In all honesty, he couldn't be blamed for doubting her words. After all, she could hardly claim to be an authority in matters of the heart. And yet, here she was, doling out advice and sounding for all the world as if she knew what she was talking about. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so sad.

The flames of the campfire were dancing in the breeze from the water, twisting and curling into weird, manlike shapes. Staring at them put her into an odd, dreamy mood, unlike her usual practical frame of mind. Her thoughts kept wandering back to her walk with Cullen on the battlements. It had been nice and pleasant, an hour of peace among their many duties, and yet, it had left her dissatisfied. Some part of her had expected Cullen to… Maker, she didn't even know what exactly she'd expected. And Cullen… once or twice he had looked at her and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then he'd changed his mind again, and kept silent. What in Thedas was going on in that man's head?

He seemed to like her well enough. Cassandra was neither blind nor naïve, and she'd caught him looking at her with barely concealed longing more than once. But, if it was true, if he wanted more than her friendship, what was it that kept him from telling her? Surely, she hadn't been too abrasive? Or had she? Was he afraid she'd reject him? A man like him, so brave and noble and kind-hearted? _Not to mention good-looking_ , a small, traitorous voice whispered in her head.

No, none of it made sense. If he really wanted her, surely he'd have spoken his mind. It had been a perfect opportunity, just the two of them, no one disturbing them, nothing else claiming their attention. And yet he had remained silent. Which left only one conclusion: He simply wasn't interested. Maybe he was secretly dreaming of someone different, some soft spoken, gentle young girl. Or maybe he simply didn't have room for love in his life.

Whatever the reason, clearly all the signs of his interest in her that she'd thought she'd seen in the past weeks had been nothing but products of her overheated imagination. It was high time to smother that kind of girlish fancy, before she ended up embarrassing them both and ruining their friendship.

* * *

They were approaching Skyhold, riding across the narrow stone bridge leading up to the fortress' main gate. The Inquisition hostages had been freed, the self-styled Hand of Korth defeated and slain, and with any luck, they would never have to set foot in that blasted bog again.

Alec glanced over at Dorian who was riding next to him, quiet and withdrawn. He still looked cold and miserable, and hadn't he complained about his ruined robes? Alec took a closer look. It was true. Dorian’s clothes were a mess, torn and scuffed, and there was no way the stains left by the bog would ever come out. His delicate beauty looked incongruous in those shabby rags, like a rare gemstone set in a cheap copper chain.

Shaking his head, Alec vowed to himself to do something about this sorry state of affairs. His own leathers looked no better, and Blackwall's armour was dented and rusty in places. But they were no longer beggars, no longer had to make every copper count. Thanks in no small part to Josephine's tireless efforts, the Inquisition could afford proper equipment nowadays. Yes. He would see to it that they all got what they needed, as soon as he possibly could.

But first... As they got off their horses, he caught the eye of a servant girl and whispered a few quick commands to her. She ran off without delay, and Alec smiled at her eagerness. Dorian was already headed for his own room. It would be cold and inhospitable after his long absence, and Alec had no intention of leaving him there.

"Dorian." He placed a careful hand on the mage's torn sleeve. "Wait. Please come with me."

"I-" Dorian seemed about to protest, but Alec's grip was firm and he must have seen the determined expression in his eyes. "As you wish."

There was a brief delay, of course, as everyone came forward to greet them when they entered the Great Hall, but Alec brushed them all off with platitudes, claiming he needed a rest. Thankfully, no one commented on the fact that Dorian followed him up to his quarters. Alec didn't want him to get skittish, not now.

The servant girl had done her job admirably well. When they entered the room, two kitchen maids were just about to empty the last two buckets of steaming water into a large wooden tub that had been set up near the window. Dorian stopped in his tracks, staring at the bath with a mixture of joy and disbelief. The servants quickly left, giggling among themselves.

Still Dorian didn't move. Alec smiled to himself and went over to his night table to find a bottle of scented oil he'd bought a while ago from an Antivan trader. Adding a generous dollop of it to the water, he inhaled its scent deeply. Sandalwood, with just a hint of musk, warm and earthy.

"Well?" Stepping behind Dorian, he carefully began to untie his belt and loosen the lacings of his robes. "Do you like my surprise?"

"Alec." Dorian swallowed. "How did you-"

"Shhhh." Alec didn't bother being careful with Dorian's robes, just dropped them all in a pile on the floor. They wouldn't be needed anymore. "Come on, or it will get cold."

He added his own clothes to the pile and led Dorian over to the tub. "Get in."

Dorian still seemed to be in a kind of daze, but he did as he was told, stretching out in the hot water with a deep sigh of bliss. "Oh, Maker! Alec, you have no idea…"

Alec didn't reply, just reached for a soft sponge and began bathing Dorian, gently washing off the grime and massaging the sore muscles. For a little while, Dorian let him proceed, but as soon as he had revived a bit, he firmly took hold of Alec's wrist.

"Come in with me." He was smiling again, and it was the most beautiful thing Alec had ever seen. "Join me."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Alec pretended to be reluctant, but there was no way he could resist that invitation, and Dorian knew it.

Moments later, he lowered himself into the tub, kneeling between Dorian's outstretched legs. The water had cooled down a little, but it was still warm enough, and it smelled good, and best of all, there was Dorian, wet and hot, and slippery. Dorian, who now proceeded to soap him up, touching him _everywhere_ with hands that were so gentle and yet so firm. It was paradise.

Of course it took no time at all for the mood to change from relaxing to sensual. Dorian's long fingers wrapped themselves around Alec's cock with exquisite dexterity, teasing and caressing, and he was only too happy to return the favour. Dorian felt incredibly good, and when Alec nibbled on his skin, he tasted just as good. Within minutes, they were both so worked up that it took an effort to remember to wash their hair before they left the bath. They rubbed each other dry and by the time they were finished, Alec was panting and shaking all over.

"Bed." Try as he might, he couldn't string a whole sentence together. It was too much, too overwhelming already.

They dropped onto the soft linen sheets together, and Alec wanted to draw it out, wanted to make it last, more than anything. But the moment Dorian touched him again, stroked him again with perfect assurance, it was all he could do to hold on to him, to beg for his release in a raw, hoarse voice he hardly recognized at his own. And it was Dorian's turn to shush him now, to hold him tight and work him with a quiet, merciless efficiency until he came with a shout, so hard it almost hurt.

With the first edge taken off his desire, he could focus on Dorian again, Dorian who had watched him with rapt attention and a complete disregard for his own need. Alec moaned at the sight of him, so hard and taut, his skin so smooth and silky over muscles tense with want. He hardly knew where to start, because he wanted to make this perfect for Dorian, wanted to show him what he could do, how well he could take care of him. Because he couldn't mess this up, not this time, not when he'd finally found exactly what he'd always been looking for.

"Alec." There was the barest hint of impatience in Dorian's voice. "Please."

"Yes. Anything you want." It was the naked truth. There was nothing he wouldn't have done for Dorian at this moment.

A shudder went through Dorian's body. "Oh Maker…" With trembling hands, he took hold of Alec's head and pushed him lower. "Just…"

Alec didn't need to be asked twice. Without hesitation, he sucked Dorian in, all the way, as far as he could without choking. Dorian cried out in happy surprise, and grabbed him harder, keeping him exactly there, without moving, eyes closed in utter bliss. He was whispering a garbled string of words in Tevinter, yet Alec understood him well enough.

Slowly, inch by inch, he pulled back, dragging his tongue along the underside of Dorian's cock with just the right amount of pressure, then flicking it softly against the crown, revelling in his lover's stifled gasp. And then he repeated it all, right from the start, and this time the gasp was very nearly a sob. Alec smiled to himself as he began a third round. He could have gone on for hours, just enjoying Dorian's enthusiastic reactions. But if he wasn't very much mistaken, Dorian was reaching the end of his tether. He was close now, so close that every tiny touch, every minute caress elicited a whimper from him.

Time for the grand finale. This time, as he reached the tip of Dorian's cock, Alec swirled his tongue around it in a quick fluttering motion, then did it again, and again, over and over. He didn't stop until he heard Dorian cry out in earnest, until he felt his body go taut, then relax, until his fervent pleas gave way to whispered words of gratitude. Alec swallowed hungrily, eager for every little last drop, suckling lazily until Dorian pulled his head away and dragged him up for a long kiss.

"Alec. That was amazing." Dorian sounded wrecked, but at the same time happy and sated, and Alec closed his eyes, content with the result of his efforts.

_Just wait until I've rested a bit._ The night was still young, and he had _plans_. And he had no intention of letting Dorian go before morning.


	13. Chapter 13

Alec was simply, truly happy. Here they were, in his room at Skyhold, with the morning sun shining in through the stained glass of the windows and painting intricate patterns on the flagstones. An opulent breakfast was laid out on a low table: toasted bread; eggs and bacon and sausages; and delicious strawberry jam, a gift from a grateful farmer in the Hinterlands. Slobber's huge head was resting on Alec's knees as he fed him choice morsels from the table. And, best of all, Dorian was lounging in an armchair opposite him, wearing soft pants and a well-worn shirt he'd borrowed from Alec's wardrobe.

"Ah, this is wonderful." Dorian yawned contentedly, reaching for a slice of bread. "Pass me the jam, will you?"

Dorian had finally moved in. He'd never actually said he would, not in so many words. But one evening, he'd brought a small chest containing his personal belongings, and ever since then, he'd stayed the night. His books were still in the cosy little corner he'd claimed for himself at the library, but everything else had found a place in Alec's room.

Alec handed him the jar and leaned back, drinking in the sight of him. Seeing Dorian dressed in his own clothes did funny things to his heart. He looked utterly delectable, and completely at home among his surroundings. Besides, it was nice to have a chance to rest. For a few blissful days, they had nowhere else to be, no urgent missions awaiting them. It was a rare occurrence, and one Alec intended to cherish.

"It's really peaceful," he agreed, but then his mood darkened as a less agreeable thought struck him. "Hard to imagine that an assassin could get past all our defenses and attack us here, in the heart of Skyhold."

Ten days ago, Leliana's agents had caught an agent of the House of Repose who had been sent to kill Josephine. She hadn't actually been in danger, but Alec had been furious.

Truth be told, he still hadn't quite forgiven himself. "I should never have let it come to this. I should have listened to Leliana when she proposed to steal the contract."

"True," Dorian agreed. "Why didn't you? Her plan was much simpler. Quite elegant, really."

"I wanted to make Josephine happy." Alec sighed. "It seemed so important to her to do things her way. And I like her a lot."

"Oh, Alec." Dorian shook his head with an indulgent smile. "When will you ever learn that you can't please everyone all the time? Anyway…" He raised an eyebrow when Slobber sat down and used his left hind leg to scratch himself vigorously behind the ears. "The problem should be solved now, shouldn't it? After all the effort you put into charming that Minister – what was her name again?"

"Bellise." Alec felt his mouth twitch in silent amusement.

Of course Dorian remembered the name very well. He just hadn't forgiven Madame Bellise for making a pass at Alec during their negotiations. Once she'd realized that he and Dorian were involved, she'd reluctantly forgone the pleasure of his company for the night. But she'd made it more than clear that she'd have really appreciated it otherwise. Dorian had been madly jealous and possessive. Alec had quite enjoyed the little scene he'd made, and their ensuing reconciliation had been even better.

"We will have to go back to Val Royeaux one more time, to get everything sorted out," was all he said aloud. "But yes, it's nearly over. Fortunately."

Getting to his feet, he walked over to the little alcove at the side of his room to wash the dog drool off his hands. On returning, he made himself comfortable in Dorian's lap, straddling his legs and leaning in to nibble on his neck.

Dorian remained grumpy, though, refusing to return his caresses. "I swear, that dog is watching our every move." He was eyeing Slobber, who had settled on the rug before the fireplace, regarding them with melancholy brown eyes.

"He probably is," Alec agreed. "You're not particularly fond of dogs, are you?"

"Not really." Dorian sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I should count myself lucky. At least he's not sleeping in your bed."

"No. He hasn't done _that_ since I was a boy." Alec smiled fondly at the memory. "Even us Marchers tend to agree that the presence of 120 pounds of mabari puts a bit of a damper on things."

"Since you were a boy!" Dorian frowned. "How old is that beast?"

"Mabari have longer lifespans than normal dogs." Alec felt a sudden surge of sadness. "But yeah, he's no longer young. He must be 16 or 17 years old. I got him for my tenth birthday. Family tradition, you know. A proper war hound for the young master."

Dorian chuckled dryly. "How did he get here anyway? I take it you didn't bring him to the Conclave."

"No." Alec shook his head. "I had him sent for after the Chantry explosion, as soon as Cassandra would allow it. I felt better with him here, more at home. Safer, too."

Dorian's expression softened considerably. "I understand. But… Would you mind sending him out? Please? He is making me nervous with that piercing stare of his."

Alec glanced over at Slobber who had raised his head and begun to pant now, his huge tongue almost touching the floor. It _was_ a bit disconcerting. "Of course. Come on, old boy." The dog willingly followed him to the door, and lay down on the rug outside. "Stay. Guard the door. I'm relying on you to let no one in." Slobber gave him a knowing look and yawned once before dropping his head on his paws, clearly unimpressed with the task.

Closing the door, Alec smiled at Dorian. "Happy?" Without waiting for an answer, he settled on his lover's knees again. Slowly, he began to unlace his shirt, relishing the way Dorian shivered when his fingers met bare skin. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

It had been a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon. Cullen liked the peaceful, contemplative atmosphere of Skyhold's garden, finally restored to its former charm thanks to their gardeners' efforts. The weather was unseasonably mild today, so he'd heeded Cassandra's advice and taken a break from his duties. It was pleasant to sit here, among the buzzing of the bees and the sweet aroma of the herbs and flowers, observing the people walking quietly among the trees and statues.

But best of all, it had given him an opportunity to play Orlesian chess with Dorian. Cullen had long neglected his game, but he'd been pleased to find that he could still keep up with the mage. Dorian was a decent player, and ambitious enough not to bore him, but in the end, all the hours he'd spent practising with his siblings as a boy had paid off, and Dorian had beaten a grumbling retreat.

Then Alec had shown up and taken over for him, and that had been even more fun. Clearly, the tutors employed by Bann Trevelyan had invested time in a thorough introduction to the game's finesses, and it had been quite a challenge to beat Alec. Besides, they had had a chance to talk about something other than the Inquisition for once.

Cullen was surprised how much he was enjoying Alec's company. Cassandra was right – it was hard not to like him. For all his faults, Alec was a genuinely nice guy. He was kind and pleasant, and he had a good sense of humour. And as a Marcher, he understood the Fereldan approach to life quite well. They weren't all that different, over there on the other side of the Waking Sea. Nothing like Orlesians or Tevinters.

Still, it felt good when he eventually made the winning move. "I believe this game is mine, Inquisitor."

Cullen leaned back, thoroughly satisfied with himself for once. His sister Mia would be proud of him. Or possibly mad at him for being so smug about his victory. A well-deserved victory, by all accounts.

Alec glared at him, irritation clearly written on his handsome face. "How did you-"

"Dorian tried to cheat as well. It's easy to spot if you know what to look for, and easy to handle, with a little circumspection." Cullen grinned. "It's all right. I'll take it as a compliment." After all, if they felt they had to resort to sleights of hand to beat him, it was really quite flattering. Not that it had done them any good. "You know, the two of you suit each other really well."

Alec snorted derisively. "What, because we both cheat at board games?"

Cullen chuckled involuntarily. "Not just because of that. If I may speak freely…"

"Go ahead." Alec graciously waved his hand. "You have every right to do so."

"Dorian does you good." He cleared his throat. "You look… happier, more settled, less as if you want to run away from it all."

Alec laughed ruefully, looking down at his feet. "Was I that obvious?"

"Not to everyone." Cullen shook his head. He didn't want to offend Alec, not now that he had come such a long way. Besides, what he'd said was true. The common soldiers almost certainly hadn't noticed that side of their beloved Herald of Andraste. "But to us, the inner circle? Yes. And I'm not sure you can be blamed. After all, you never asked for any of this. But, you've changed, and I can honestly say it's an honour to serve at your side now."

Alec actually blushed, mumbling something about having to check on his horse, and quickly took his leave. He seemed well pleased, though.

Leaning back in his chair and squinting up into the sun, Cullen stretched contentedly. He looked forward to telling Cassandra about this little scene. She'd appreciate it, he was sure of it. She'd roll her eyes about the cheating and have a chuckle about Alec's sudden bashfulness. Yes, she'd enjoy it. Though, come to think of it…

He frowned as the realization hit him. For some reason, Cassandra had been avoiding him lately. It wasn't that she seemed unfriendly or angry, but her manner was definitely more distant than usual. And she hadn't come to his tower any more, not since their walk on the battlements. Had he said or done something wrong? Was she mad at him after all?

Wearily, he rubbed his neck, feeling his good mood drain away. He missed her. Her wit, her smile, her dry little chuckle, even the funny little noise she made when she got impatient. If this was his fault, if he'd somehow offended her, he had to make things right again. But what could he do? How should he go about it?

* * *

Dorian stayed well back while Josephine thanked Alec for his help. She looked happy and relieved, and Alec was beaming at her, his face shining with pride. _He's so glad to be needed._ Seeing his expression tugged at Dorian's heartstrings. Alec was so used to thinking of himself as the worthless, good-for-nothing younger son that he always appeared genuinely surprised when his actions made a difference for the better.

Josephine was laughing out loud now, throwing back her head, far more relaxed and flirty than he'd ever seen her. "If you ever come to Antiva…" he heard her cry out, and Alec gave her one of his breath-taking smiles in return.

Maker, but they looked good together, against the backdrop of Val Royeaux’s glamorous waterfront. A charming couple, both of them attractive and well-dressed. Alec had recently commissioned new leather armour from Harritt, in a gorgeous shade of light green that suited him very well.

"Gurgut skin," he'd explained when Dorian had admired the material, set off beautifully by a tunic made from fine fawn-coloured wool. "It's almost worth the trouble those buggers gave us when they attacked, don't you think?"

With a sigh, Dorian tugged at his own bulky robes. Alec had dug around in Skyhold’s various chests after their return from the Fallow Mire and found this, Orlesian Battle Mage armour that had the advantage of being warm and clean, but didn't have much else going for it. Dorian hated the way it made him look, staid and respectable, more like a common soldier than like a mage.

Josephine kissed Alec soundly on both cheeks and gave Dorian a cheery wave before bustling off to some tea party or other. He watched her leave, feeling a brief pang at the thought that Josephine was more comfortable with such a public display of affection for his lover than he ever would be. Slowly, he approached Alec, who was enjoying the view over the sparkling waters of the Miroir de la Mère.

"What now?" He cleared his throat, feeling a little self-conscious. "Do you want to go back to the inn?"

"Not yet." And suddenly he was the one on the receiving end of one of those ravishing smiles, and Dorian's heart almost skipped a beat. Alec lifted his eyebrow mysteriously. "There’s something… Just come with me. It's easier to show than to tell."

Dorian's curiosity was piqued. He followed Alec through a maze of alleys behind the Summer Bazaar until they arrived at a gilded door with a very discreet shop sign set into the wall next to it. "What is this place?"

Alec smiled at his wary expression and raised his hand to knock. "Vivienne introduced me," he explained. "They don't accept customers without a reference."

A slim elven servant opened the door for them, bowing deeply when she recognized Alec, and took them to an exquisitely furnished room at the back of the house.

An elegant, skeletally thin woman was already waiting for them. Her mask was painted with a wide smile, making her look scary rather than welcoming. But maybe that was the intended effect. "Your Worship. We have your order ready."

Alec inclined his head gracefully. "My thanks, Madame Gabrielle. May I introduce Dorian of House Pavus, my good friend and companion?"

"It is my pleasure." The woman allowed him to kiss her hand. "Please follow me for your final fitting."

"My final… Alec, you didn't have to-" Dorian felt his throat go tight when he realized what was going on.

"Oh yes, I did." Alec regarded him with a mixture of anxiety and enthusiasm that was utterly endearing. "Madame Gabrielle specializes in mage robes, and Vivienne assures me that they are perfect for battle as well as beautifully designed. She helped me guess at your measurements, too."

The robes were stunning. A deep, dark red was the predominant colour, and the fabric was thick and warm and luscious, enchanted to withstand both enemy attacks and the vagaries of the Southern climate. The cut was flattering in the extreme, with an intricately engraved shoulder guard of shimmering aurum emphasizing Dorian's slim build.

"The belt and vambraces are made from the finest dragonling leather from the Hissing Wastes." Madame Gabrielle sounded as proud as if she had gone dragon hunting herself. "It's been cured and hardened by our expert craftsmen to be as supple as sin and as tough as steel."

She spoke the truth. The leather was perfect. All of it was perfect. The fabric of the robes felt like a gentle caress on Dorian's skin. And when he saw himself in the floor length mirror, he instinctively stood up straighter.

"You look amazing." Alec stepped up next to him and reached out with a trembling hand to adjust the high collar. "Gorgeous." His voice sounded hoarse and low, and his eyes were dark with passion.

But the moment he turned to face Madame Gabrielle, he was all business again. "We will need a second set, of course, and appropriate undergarments. And I believe there are matching boots to go with it? Oh, and before I forget… Madame de Fer is going to call on you to place an order of her own before we leave the city."

The rest of their visit passed in a flurry of activity, and it was almost two hours until they were on their way back to their inn. Dorian didn't speak until they were alone again. He was too busy soaking up the admiring looks of the passers-by on the street and besides, this was a conversation more suited to a private venue.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he pulled Alec into a loose embrace. "Maker, Alec, you shouldn't have… Thank you so much. Can we really afford this?"

Alec laughed softly, running both hands appreciatively along Dorian's upper arms. "Yes, we can. Don't worry. It's all good, and you look and feel marvellous. Besides…" There was a definite twinkle in his eyes. "Josephine keeps telling me that appearances matter. I'm just following her advice."

"I guess I ought to be thankful to her, then." Dorian savoured his touch. It was so good to feel well dressed and civilized again.

"Oh, absolutely. Josie is such a sweetheart." Alec's smile turned wistful. "You know, she's invited me to Antiva. I've always dreamt of going there."

Dorian smiled indulgently at the longing expression on his face. "It's a beautiful place, from what I've heard."

Alec huffed impatiently, even as he pulled him closer. "I wish we could go there now. I wish I could just leave all this Inquisition business behind and travel and see the world with you. We could go to Rivain, to Antiva, maybe even to Tevinter. Would you like that?"

"More than anything." Affectionately, Dorian brushed a thick strand of blond hair from Alec's forehead. "Ah, Alec, if we were in Minrathous, I could show you a hundred ways to shame your ancestors. One day I'll take you there, but for now, we'll have to make do."

"Yes." A shudder ran through Alec's body and he moulded himself even more tightly against him. Clearly, he was fully on board with whatever Dorian was suggesting. "Much as I like those robes on you, I think it's time we got rid of them."

"Absolutely." Dorian moaned softly and reached for the straps. "Well, go on, then. What are you waiting for?"

 


	14. Chapter 14

Bull was rubbing ineffectually at a spatter of blood on the leather straps of his armour. They had finally managed to take down one of the giants haunting the upper reaches of the Emerald Graves, and the creature had spilled most of his innards over Bull and Cassandra.

"Look at you, boss. Not a single drop of blood on either you or the mage." Bull shook his massive horned head. "Guess it has its advantages, fighting at a distance. Nice and safe, too. We risk our necks at the front line, while all you do is stand around with a piece of polished wood in your hands." The way he wiggled his eyebrows made it clear that the innuendo had been fully intentional.

Alec grinned. He knew Bull was just trying to get a rise out of him. "Ah, Bull, you know I'm far too pretty too die. And mages need looking after. They are delicate creatures." That last remark earned him a scowl from Dorian, who was lying stretched out close to the fire. "But you're right. We’re lucky to have you and Cassandra to protect us."

Cassandra snorted, but didn't quite manage to hide her smile.

Alec lay back, stretching slowly, winking at Bull. "Besides, if I stay at the back with Dorian, I can watch him in action, and I wouldn't miss _that_ for the world. So much power unleashed, all those swishy moves with his staff… it gives me indecent ideas, to be honest."

Dorian cleared his throat. "I can assure you the feeling is quite mutual." His voice was low, but there was so much hidden fire in his eyes that Alec's throat went dry. The air between them was practically crackling with tension. Dorian was usually so reserved, so careful not to show his feelings outside their room. For him to admit in public-

"Ugh." Cassandra made a face. "I really didn't need to hear that."

"I'm just stating the obvious," Alec protested. "Have you _seen_ him fight? Even Blackwall noticed how beautiful it is to see the joy he takes in his magic." He smiled affectionately at Dorian. "Of course it doesn't hurt that we got you proper robes."

"Peacocks, both of you," Bull grunted good-naturedly. "With your pretty armour and your shiny hair. You're aptly named, _Pavus_."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you spoke our language so well. For a brutish beast from Par Vollen, you're astonishingly civilized sometimes."

"Ha!" Bull bellowed out a brief laugh. "The only thing here that's _astonishing_ is that a soft, decadent mageling from Minrathous has the balls to talk to me like that."

"Enough!" Alec got up, brushing a few twigs off his green leather pants, doing his best to look stern. "I'm tired. I think I'll have an early night."

Without a word, Dorian got to his feet to follow him. As they made their way over to their tent, set up at a little distance from the other two, Alec heard Bull mutter something about "tired, my foot", but he just smiled to himself. _He's not wrong, after all._ He rather hoped Dorian hadn't heard, though.

This mission was the first time they were openly sharing a tent. Alec had requested a bigger one, much to Scout Harding’s gleeful delight. It hadn't been easy to convince Dorian that it made no sense to squeeze themselves into Alec's small personal space when the mood struck them. Not that that happened all that often – they both preferred the big bed at Skyhold, given the chance. But tonight…

As soon as the tent flap was secured, Alec was on Dorian, pulling him into a tight embrace, claiming his lips in a deep, hard kiss that took them both by surprise by its passionate intensity. Dorian moaned against his lips, trying to stifle the sound, his fist clenching hard in Alec's tunic.

"So you enjoy watching me with my bow?" Alec was struggling with the fastenings of Dorian’s robes, sorely tempted to just push them up and out of the way so that he could get his hands on the soft, warm skin he was craving.

"Of course I do." Dorian did his best to help, but he, too, was trembling. "Your stance, the way the muscles bunch up in your back when you pull back the string? It's all I can think of some nights." He leaned back into Alec's arms, whimpering softly when Alec ran his tongue up his bare throat. "Sweet Andraste, what are you doing to me? I-" For a split second, he swayed on his feet.

"Shhh. I've got you." Alec pulled him even closer, and finally the robes came off, and Dorian was… incredible, so much soft skin, so hot, and he was so _hard_ , his cock twitching almost desperately when Alec took hold of him. "Shhh," he repeated. "Maker, Dorian, I want you so badly."

Once again, their lips met, and once again, Alec lost the ability to think as soon as he felt the mage’s mouth on his. Dorian clung to him as if he wanted to devour him, to steal the breath from his lungs, to drink the very essence of him from his lips. It was intense and wonderful and when they finally pulled apart, Alec was panting so hard he could barely speak.

"You… You feel so good." With an inarticulate groan, he sank to his knees to wrap his lips around Dorian.

He wanted this so much, wanted to taste the salty skin, to feel Dorian pulse against his tongue, to make him come undone. Dorian’s hand clenched tight in his hair as Alec's lips locked around him, and he made a strangled noise.

"No." It was obvious how much effort it cost him, but he pulled Alec's head back. "No. Too fast."

Alec moaned impatiently, but just then, Dorian slid down to join him on the floor and cupped him through his pants and his whole world turned upside down with a violent jolt.

"Dorian! Yes, please." He pushed himself shamelessly into the other man’s grip. "Please."

Dorian made a small, reassuring noise, and then the pants were gone, shoved roughly aside, and a warm, gentle hand wrapped itself around his straining cock, stroking him with just the right amount of pressure. Anything more and he'd have lost it then and there, anything less and he would have died from impatience. Or at least that was what it felt like.

Dorian lay back and pulled Alec on top of him, their cocks aligned, held tightly together by his shaking hand, and once again, it felt so _good_. "Look."

There was no need to tell Alec. He couldn't have torn his gaze away for all the riches in Thedas. Dorian’s long, sleek fingers, wrapped around both of them, the smooth roll of his hips as he began to thrust, the way his foreskin slid back on each upstroke, revealing the tip of his cock, red and flushed and weeping. Alec whined, unable to keep quiet any longer, utterly unable to stop his hips from moving, even though his quick jerking motion disrupted the perfect rhythm Dorian had set.

They were both moaning now, both trembling all over, both close, so close that all refinement was lost and nothing remained but breathless, urgent need, for more heat, more friction, more skin. In some dim corner of his mind, Alec knew the others would hear them, knew Dorian would likely be embarrassed in the morning, but right now, he didn't have it in him to care, not when his whole body was crying out for release. And when it came, it was glorious, messy and sticky and such a blessed relief, with Dorian almost sobbing as he joined him, their lips crushed together in a searing kiss.

* * *

"Solid work today, Seeker. Without you, we'd have been done for. That big brute would have smashed us all to pieces." The Iron Bull grinned at her across the campfire. "Always a pleasure watching you in battle."

"Thank you." Cassandra smiled back. "You did quite well yourself. I enjoy fighting at your side."

"Mmmhmm." Bull gave her one of his unexpectedly perspicacious looks, dropping the jovial mask for a heartbeat. "You seem… angry, though, lately. Angry and frustrated. Must be all that pent-up passion. It's not good for you. Makes you tense."

"What?" For a moment, she was lost for words, but then she found her voice again. "I really have no idea what you mean. And I'm not sure I want to know." She sounded stiff and ill-humoured, but really, what-

"Aw, come on, don't be mad at me." His grin was back, decidedly more suggestive now. "Look, I guess, all I'm saying is… If you need any help with that frustration, just let me know, okay? I'd gladly help you out."

Cassandra opened her mouth to reply, but at the same time a flash of memory rose in her mind. A while ago she had overheard one of the maids at Skyhold bragging to her friend about a night spent with Bull. _The big horned guy? Your loss if you don't have a go, hon. Really good with his tongue, and his horns aren't the only thing that…_ The girl had dissolved into giggles at this point, but her gestures had made her meaning clear enough.

For a split second, Cassandra was almost tempted to say yes, to find out for herself if… Maker, what was she even thinking!

Her lips set in a tight line, she shook her head firmly and decisively. "That is never going to happen. Never, ever."

To her relief, Bull didn't get mad, just guffawed once and got to his feet in a movement that was surprisingly graceful for someone his size. "No offense intended, Seeker. I'll leave you alone." He stretched and winked at her. "Anyway, I'm not what you crave, right? Too much horn and not enough fur."

"That's-" Before she could think of something to say, he'd already turned and left, with another infuriatingly smug chuckle.

_The nerve!_ Staring into the flames, Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up. The mere suggestion that she needed a man, needed _Cullen_ to take care of her _frustrations_ was enough to raise her hackles. And yet… Knowing Bull, he probably meant well. The Qun didn't believe in romance, after all, and in his world view, it made perfect sense to offer that kind of stress relief to a companion. Besides, he _was_ observant, she had to grant him that. After all, if there was anyone she wanted, anyone she'd even consider- But no. If nothing else, Cullen didn't deserve to be reduced to a mere outlet for her baser urges.

_Gah! This is going nowhere_. Cassandra was beginning to get disgusted with herself. She was spending far too much time like this lately, wrapped up in her own thoughts, wallowing in her misery. Far better to keep herself busy. Shaking off her dark mood, she got to her feet and made for the outskirts of the camp to check on the guards.

* * *

Dorian had dreaded the next morning, but when they emerged from their tent, neither Bull nor Cassandra seemed particularly interested in their nightly activities. Surely they all had to know, considering the racket he and Alec had made. But if they did, they were either too polite to mention it or they really, truly didn't care. It was quite amazing.

Still, he spent all morning nervously watching everyone around him, trying to overhear their conversations to find out if they were talking about him and Alec. But there was nothing. Not a single disapproving frown or suggestive remark. It was the same when they returned to their camp at night, battered and weary after clearing out yet another rift. Literally no one was batting an eyelash. Clearly, the Inquisitor's love life was old news by now. Dorian couldn't believe it. Did they really not mind?

It was almost a relief when Scout Harding approached him at the campfire and asked him for a word in private. Now, finally, she was going to tell him what everyone had been gossiping about all day. Maybe she would even advise him to end their romance, to save Alec's reputation.

He grew even more apprehensive when Harding hemmed and hawed, clearly uncertain of how to begin. "Ser Pavus… I, that is we, the scouts I mean, but also me personally, we'd like to-" She broke off, blushing so hard that her freckles almost disappeared.

"Go on. Say it." He mentally braced himself for the worst.

"We are so glad he has you. Alec, I mean." Harding wasn't looking at him, so she couldn't see his stunned expression, and she kept talking, very fast, as if afraid he'd interrupt her. "See, we all care for the Inquisitor, and he's been so much happier and more relaxed since-" Again, she blushed fiercely. "Anyway, I just wanted to say…" Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and her eyes narrowed. For a moment, she looked really fierce. "Make sure you treat him right. We'll be keeping an eye on you, and if you hurt him-"

"Harding!" Dorian was so dizzy with relief he almost laughed out loud. "I assure you, I have no intention of hurting Alec. Ever." He shook his head. "He means far too much to me."

Harding made a small, sceptical noise and looked him straight in the eyes, as if trying to ascertain the truth of his statement. Luckily, whatever she saw there, seemed to satisfy her. "Well. Good. You better be serious about him."

"I am. I really am." Some part of him still wanted to laugh, but at the same time Dorian was sincerely touched by her attitude. "I swear it."

Another brief nod, and she was gone, leaving him alone in the darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

Dorian hated Chateau d'Onterre from the moment they set foot in it.

At first, he didn't even know why. Sure, abandoned houses were always creepy, and this one was no exception. Their footsteps echoed far too loudly in the emptiness of the long galleries, and an odd smell pervaded the opulently furnished rooms; a sickly sweet odour of death and decay that made him want to throw up.

They found the source of the smell before long. Corpses, some of them astonishingly well preserved, some of them rotted away to the very bones. They were everywhere, lying sprawled on the prettily patterned floor tiles, three or four to a room. Not a single living soul to be found in the whole estate.

"Maker." Alec had grown pale. "I was hoping the family had just grown tired of their summer residence. But this-"

Dorian nodded quietly. The castle looked like a slaughterhouse. Generations of d'Onterres were staring down at the carnage from their portraits on the walls, their serene smiles a macabre counterpoint to the horrors that had befallen their descendants. Books and papers were scattered everywhere, plants and spiders had invaded the rooms through windows that had been left open. Out in the courtyard, the grass had grown thigh high, and the water in the ornamental fountain smelled foul. Something was clearly very wrong.

And yet, when the first torch lit itself, Dorian tried to laugh it off as a cheap trick, while Cassandra murmured a quick prayer. Alec had gone pale, and even Bull seemed a little uncomfortable. Shortly after, the undead began attacking them, shambling corpses kept alive by dark magic. They proceeded more carefully from then on, taking turns to scout each room before entering it.

"Boss! Look at this!" Bull's booming voice bounced off the high ceiling of the grand ballroom. "Now this is what I call _style_!"

Dorian followed his gaze up to what was hovering above their heads. _A dragon._ Or, to be precise, a remarkably lifelike replica of a fully grown dragon, attached to the ceiling by means of thick ropes. "Yes, I can see how this might appeal to your taste in interior decorating."

"It's not real, of course." Cassandra's cool, reasonable tone was a balm for his frayed nerves.

"Of course not." The effect of Alec's confident smile was rather ruined by the trembling of his voice.

They continued exploring the castle, finding more and more clues as to what had happened here. Pages torn from a young girl's diary, Lord d'Onterre's own journal, letters, and bookmarked pages – they all added up to a story that was both sad and all-too familiar. They paused in one of the bedchambers to discuss their findings, always keeping an ear out for more foes.

"A mage child." Cassandra's expression was a mixture of horror and sympathy. "They hid her away, here in the castle. Why in Andraste's name didn't they send her to the Circle?"

"To hide their shame." Dorian had trouble getting the words out. His throat felt so tight it hurt. "To preserve _their good family name_ ," he quoted from the journal page in his hand. "Clearly, they were willing to go to any lengths to keep their daughter's magical abilities a secret."

"The poor girl." Alec swallowed. "Imagine being locked up here all those years, with no one her own age for company."

"At least the servants appear to have cared." Bull sounded gruff. "Their cook seems to have been fond of her."

"Still, she must have been terribly lonely. An easy target for a demon." The letters of the diary were beginning to blur before Dorian's eyes. " _A new friend_."

"Yes. And look at the last entries." Cassandra's hand was shaking as she reached for the pages. " _Dancing and partying until everyone fell down… When I saw Mother and Father, I couldn't stop crying._ Sweet Maker. She forced them to dance themselves to death. All of them."

"She did? Or the demon did it." Alec's face had turned grim.

"It probably amounts to the same thing." Cassandra glanced sideways at Dorian. "She's almost certainly allowed the demon to possess her by now."

Dorian nodded his assent. "Yes. It's too late. It's always too late."

"Dorian…" Alec placed a careful hand on his sleeve, but then withdrew it with a resigned sigh. "I'm sorry."

There was nothing more to be said. They found the girl eventually, or what was left of her. An Arcane Horror, a screaming, twisted abomination, a foul perversion of magic. Killing it, killing her, was the easy part.

But how would he ever manage to banish her screams from his head?

* * *

Alec hadn't seen Dorian all day long. On their return from the Emerald Graves, his attention had been immediately claimed by Josephine. Now that the decision had been made to attend Empress Celene's ball at the Winter Palace in a few weeks, she was getting more and more insistent that they all ought to be properly prepared.

Afterwards, he'd spent an enjoyable hour or two at the pub with Sera and Scout Harding, talking archery and stealth manoeuvres. He'd had dinner with Cullen at the mess hall; then Dagna had dragged him aside to discuss an upgrade to his bow.

When he finally made it to his quarters, Dorian wasn't there. Alec debated briefly whether he should wait for him, but then decided against it. He had a bad feeling about Dorian's absence, and he knew that waiting for him to show up would be torture.

It took him almost an hour to find Dorian, holed up in a draughty tower room with a half-emptied wineskin at his side and a book clutched to his chest. He was still coherent, but his eyes had an empty, glazed over look and he looked dishevelled, his hair mussed up and his shirt wrinkled and untucked.

Alec dropped to his knees at his side and firmly put the wineskin out of his reach. "Dorian. What's going on?"

"Well, what do you think?" Dorian snarled at him, baring his teeth like a wounded animal. "Did you expect me to just… forget about it all and get back to business as usual?"

"What-" Carefully, Alec freed the book from Dorian's clasp. His heart sank when he recognized the title. _The Curse of Magic_.

It had been one of many such volumes in the library at Chateau d'Onterre. A collection of superstitious nonsense, assembled by ignorant fools who'd let their fear of maleficars goad them into turning an innocent child's existence into a living hell. The page Dorian had been reading was covered in wine stains and marked by a dog-eared corner. Alec shook his head. He'd never seen Dorian treat a book so badly.

Though this drivel doubtlessly deserved it. Glancing at the page, Alec felt the bile rise in his throat. _How to Prevent Magic Formation in the Earliest Stages… you can purge the body of unwanted elements before they take hold. Place leeches on each of the child's limbs… A child showing signs of magic may be submerged in water until the breath is nearly lost._ How the d'Onterres could have even considered treating their own daughter in such a barbaric manner defied belief.

"It is so… maddening." Dorian's jaw was working furiously, and his eyes were staring into the distance, unseeing. "The superstition, the fear of the unknown… the sheer _stupidity_! That poor child, to be born to such vile, inhuman, _despicable_ monsters!"

Alec didn't know what to say. Dorian was right, of course he was right. The realization that this kind of cruel archaic nonsense was still rampant, and in a noble, well-educated family at that… It made him feel guilty by association, made him feel _dirty_ just for having witnessed it. What could he possibly say that Dorian didn't know already?

So he took his refuge in sarcasm. "Well, it does put things into perspective, doesn't it? Knowing that other families are even more dysfunctional than your own?"

" _Kaffas_!" Dorian sat up straight, his eyes flashing fire. "This is not a joke, Alec."

"I know it isn't." Alec immediately realized he'd misjudged the situation. Though at least he had managed to rouse Dorian from his apathy.

Still, now was not the time to hide behind flippant remarks. The plain unadorned truth was the only thing Dorian would accept from him now. Taking a deep breath, he took Dorian's hands in his and met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Dorian. I'm deeply ashamed for what they did. And I wish there was something I could do to prevent such monstrosities from happening. I wish-"

"Alec." Dorian's face had softened, and there was a world of affection in his eyes. Cupping Alec's cheek, he traced his scar with his fingertips. "It's not your fault."

"Maybe not." Alec closed his eyes, feeling tears burn behind his lids. "But it shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, and I feel so damn helpless. But I'll never let anyone hurt you, I swear."

"I know." Thankfully, Dorian refrained from pointing out that he was perfectly capable of defending himself. Instead, he finally allowed Alec to embrace him and hold him tight. "I know, _amatus_. Thank you."

"Come on." Pulling Dorian with him, Alec got to his feet. "Let's get you back to our room. Time to rest."

* * *

Cullen awoke with a shout, bathed in sweat. It took him a while to find his bearings. There was no doubt about it – the nightmares were getting worse again. He'd thought the worst was over, thought he had finally overcome the siren call of the lyrium, but it wasn't that easy. Would it ever disappear, that craving, that hunger? Would his demons ever let him sleep in peace?

He needed someone to talk to, he realized, he needed someone to help him carry the load. In the normal course of events, he'd have spoken to Cassandra, asked her for her support, but with the way things had been going lately, he didn't dare ask her.

He would go and see Alec in the morning, Cullen decided. It was something he should have done long ago. The Inquisitor had a right to know why the Commander of his forces was so exhausted that he had trouble keeping his eyes open. He deserved to know the reason behind the tremors and the nightmares.

One thing had been different tonight, though, and it definitely wasn't something Cullen was going to discuss with the Inquisitor. This time, the nightmare that had awoken him had not been of Kirkwall, nor of the abominations that normally haunted his dreams. No, the vision that had tormented him had been of a desire demon, an obscene parody of love, forcing itself into his mind and soul, and it had left him badly shaken, yet also unmistakably and inescapably aroused.

Disgusted with himself, he glared down at his aching erection, willing it to subside. He hadn't thought of that kind of monstrosity since he'd left Starkhaven and come to Kirkwall. It was a real memory, of course, of that horrible time in Kinloch when he'd been trapped, held captive by Uldred and his thralls. But he hadn't been forced to relive that particular horror for _ages_ , not like this. Why now?

The realization hit him with such force that he groaned aloud. The answer was more than obvious of course. The memory was back, because once again, desire had gained a foothold inside his mind. No longer the forbidden desire for a mage in his care, thank the Maker. Not that, never that. He was better than that now.

But yes, the feeling was back, pulsing through his veins as it hadn't done in years. This was not just his body demanding its due – after all, _that_ was easily taken care of. No, it was far more, and it was time he was honest about it, if only so he could subdue the urge again.

He wanted her. _Cassandra_. The mere thought of her smile, of her eyes, of her strong, lithe body had him hard again, and _this_ wasn't the work of a demon. This was his own mind, his own heart, conjuring up images of her in his arms, writhing in his hold, screaming his name. And it wasn't just a physical thing. He wanted her, body and soul, and that would make it infinitely harder to overcome.

Groaning, he rolled over, rutting helplessly against the mattress, but he immediately forced himself to lie still. He couldn't do this, couldn't debase her by thinking of her while he- _And why would that be so bad,_ a tiny, treacherous voice whispered in his head. _What makes you so sure she isn't doing the same, alone in her quarters?_ The mere image was enough to make him see stars.

But no, he couldn't. Not if he wanted to look her in the eye again. Clenching his teeth, he kicked back his covers and got to his feet, stripping off his pants and shirt. There was a bucket of cold water in the corner, for his morning ablutions. Before he had time to hesitate, he lifted it with both arms and poured it all over his bare body. The icy water hit him like a fist, knocking the breath from his lungs, and he just barely managed not to scream.

_Well, that certainly did the trick_. Smiling wryly, he grabbed a towel to rub himself down. His head was clear again. He was in control again. He was _not_ an animal governed by his baser nature.

And yet… he wasn't going to start lying to himself again. It was too liberating to finally admit it. He wanted Cassandra, more than he'd ever wanted a woman. And more: He was in love with her, hopelessly, romantically in love with her. He wanted to shower her with rose petals, carry her off into the sunset, all that stupid, soppy stuff she loved so much in her novels. He wanted to give her all that, wanted to make her happy. And he never could, and that _hurt_.

He clenched his teeth, doing his best to lock his feelings safely away for the day, but a tiny niggle of doubt kept surfacing. Was it really that hopeless? He was no longer a Templar, no longer bound to the Order. And she wasn't indifferent to him, he was sure of it. Maybe if he talked to her… But no. She deserved better than him. He was broken, inescapably so, ruined by the lyrium and his own past failings. He could never have her, but at least he could treasure the feeling while it lasted.

And yet, a sliver of hope remained with him. _Maybe there's a way…_


	16. Chapter 16

Alec glanced out of the window, admiring the breath-taking view. Up here in Skyhold's brisk, cool mountain air, eternal peace and serenity seemed to reign. It was hard to imagine that they had just spent three weeks trudging through dense undergrowth in the Emerald Graves, fending off bears and brontos and giants.

With a sigh of pleasure, he turned back toward the room. The view inside wasn't bad either. Dorian was lounging on his stomach on the big four-poster bed, completely naked and wholly unconcerned about that fact. Alec sauntered over, not bothering to hide his appreciation for his lover's assets.

Dorian was beautiful, there was no other word for it: his wide shoulders, his slim waist; the little dimples just above the perfect curve of his ass; the way he held himself, proud to the point of arrogance and utterly graceful. Alec felt his throat go dry at the thought that all this was _his_. His to love and to cherish, his to touch and caress.

Dorian smiled up at him and rolled over on his back, fully conscious of the effect this would have on Alec. "Well?"

"You're so fucking gorgeous." Alec didn't bother to hide the rasp in his voice. Bending down, he let his hand slide down Dorian's chest to his stomach and the fine trail of dark hair there.

Dorian's eyes darkened, but obviously he wasn't done teasing yet. "Why don't you tell me something I don't know?"

Deftly, he caught Alec's hand, softening his harsh words with a feather light kiss on his wrist.

Alec shuddered all over. He was only wearing thin linen pants himself, and they did nothing to hide his arousal.

"What can I tell you?" Closing his eyes, he struggled for composure as Dorian got up on his knees, pulling him into a loose embrace. "Maker, Dorian… You know everything about me already. I can't think of anything that would tickle your fancy."

"Hmmm." Dorian was kissing his way down his throat now, little fluttering kisses that were driving Alec half-mad. "Some juicy gossip, then? Any dark secrets you happen to have learned?"

"I don't-" Alec moaned when Dorian pinched his nipple, just this side of painful. "Oh wait, there is something. I spoke to Cullen today. Did you know he's stopped taking lyrium?"

Dorian didn't even look up, just made a small, humming noise and bit down on the puckered flesh, then licked it softly to ease the sting.

"You could at least pretend to be surprised." Alec _was_ a little annoyed, enough to clear his head for a moment and make him go tense.

Dorian picked up on it immediately, of course. Pulling back, he tilted his head to the side a little. "I admit that I _had_ wondered why I could no longer smell it on him."

"Dorian! That's gross." Alec made a face.

"I was speaking metaphorically, _amatus_." Dorian thoughtfully stroked his moustache. "Interesting. He seems to be handling it better than most people I've seen. Still, I hope he knows what he's doing. Lyrium withdrawal can have unexpected side effects."

Alec wasn't sure whether to be happy that Dorian was finally taking him seriously, or disappointed that he had stopped caressing him. "He told me he'd asked Cassandra to watch over him, and to deal with him if he becomes a danger to us, or to our cause."

"The Lady Seeker." Dorian sighed. "Cruel as well as beautiful, then."

"What do you mean?" Alec shook his head in irritation. "Cassandra isn't cruel. Tough as nails, yes, but-"

"I was referring to Commander Cullen." Dorian smiled indulgently at Alec's baffled expression. "To ask this of her, when she clearly loves him…"

"She does? Oh." Understanding dawned on him. "Of course she does. Poor Cassandra."

"Exactly." Dorian nodded. "And of course she'd do what he asked her to, if it ever became necessary, even though it would break her heart. But then again she's in for heartbreak anyway, because I bet the Commander is far too honourable to reveal his own feelings for her, knowing he isn't perfect."

Alec groaned in desperation. "Maker! You really think they are that stupid?"

"People are stupid when they're in love, _amatus_. You should know." Dorian's smile turned predatory, driving all thoughts of Cullen and Cassandra from Alec's mind. "Come here now."

* * *

Dorian was done talking. Much as he enjoyed teasing Alec, he had no intention of letting himself be distracted from what he really wanted. And the only thing he wanted nowadays was Alec, only Alec. All the time and in every way imaginable. It probably qualified as obsession by now.

He'd expected the attraction to wear off after a few weeks, but so far they were still going strong. The mere scent of leather was enough to get him hard nowadays. And a simple glance at Alec, standing there bare-chested, his cock straining against his pants, sufficed to make Dorian's mouth water, to make his imagination run wild with all the things he wanted to do to him.

But at the same time, it wasn't enough. He simply needed more of Alec. He needed him naked, every inch of his smooth freckled skin bared to his touch. He needed to get his hands on him, to hold him down, to feel the strength in his arms as he pushed back. Impatiently, he tugged at the pants, and Alec quickly wiggled out of them. _So eager to please, so willing. Always._

Only moments later, they were both on the bed, stretched out side by side, and he took Alec's mouth in a long, hungry kiss. He felt so _good_ , all of him, and Dorian's body fit so perfectly against his, as if they were made for each other. With a low growl, he rolled them both over, then propped himself up on his arms and pushed his leg slowly between Alec's, claiming him completely.

Alec lay back, his head sinking into the cushions, his eyes closed in bliss, and it was… Dorian hardly had the words to describe what it did to him, the knowledge that Alec was ready to let him take the lead, trusted him to make it good for both of them.

Slowly, he rolled his hips against Alec, and was rewarded with another moan as their cocks slid against each other. He did it again, and Alec whimpered, digging his nails into his back, arching up and offering the perfect line of his throat for a kiss, a bite, or whatever else Dorian chose to do to him. It was intoxicating to have so much power, but at the same time Dorian's heart hurt with emotion at the sight, hurt so much that he thought it would burst out of his chest.

Again. Another soft, slow grind, and Alec's face contorted with lust, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so wholly unguarded. It was tempting to make him come like this, but Dorian wanted more.

It was almost painful to break their contact, but he pulled back and slid lower, until his face was level with Alec's cock, breathing a kiss on the tip and licking off the single pearl of fluid that had gathered there. Alec flinched visibly, his breath coming in tortured gasps, his hands balling into fists. Dorian smiled to himself.

"Not yet," he whispered. "Just a little while longer."

Alec nodded. Tiny beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead, but he kept perfectly still while Dorian gave him a chance to recover, lightly stroking his legs. Then, when he was sure he'd waited long enough, he placed both hands on Alec's thighs and pushed them apart, spreading him obscenely wide, laying him out for his pleasure. _A perfect tableau_.

Then Dorian got to work, with mouth and tongue and oil-slicked fingers, reducing Alec to a helpless, shivering mess. He lost track of space and time as he completely focussed on his beloved, on every moan and every twitch and every shudder of his. And when he finally pushed inside him, inch by exquisite inch, Alec was more than ready for him, his body relaxed and open and Maker, so _hot_ , so wonderfully hot.

He could have let go at this point, he could have been as rough and fast as he liked, and Alec wouldn't have complained, Dorian was sure of it. But tonight was different, tonight he needed to last as long as possible. More than anything he wanted to feel Alec unravel around him and fall to pieces. So he took his time, setting a languorous, lazy rhythm and only gradually picking up speed. And Alec allowed it, though he was far from passive, his hips moving along with him, his whole body following Dorian's lead. He was utterly gorgeous like this.

On and on they went, such a long, slow build-up that his orgasm took Dorian by surprise, when it hit him, only announced by the faintest tingle in his lower back. He had just about enough time to take hold of Alec's cock, to stroke him once, twice, to whisper a few ragged words of encouragement. Already, his whole body was awash with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, as sweet as it was irresistible. Clinging tightly to each other, they came together, both of them trembling with the force of it, crying out in unison. For a fleeting moment, their bodies seemed to melt into each other, incredibly close, perfectly in tune. _Joined_.

Dorian didn't want to let go of Alec afterwards, didn't want to disentangle himself from him, even though he felt sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable. All he wanted was to hold Alec a little longer and pretend that their bodies truly had become one. He didn't want to let go. For the first time in his life, Dorian wished he could make the moment last forever.

* * *

Cassandra was worried.

She had stayed away from Cullen for most of the past week, in an attempt to… Well, actually she wasn't sure what she was trying to do. Part of her was simply afraid that she would give herself away in his presence, and then he'd feel put on the spot and it would all be so horribly embarrassing. Part of her was hoping that if she didn't see him so often, those inconvenient feelings would simply go away, and things would be simple again.

Still, she couldn't close her eyes to how sick and tired he had started to look lately. She had made a promise, and she owed it to him to speak out. When she confronted him after their daily war table meeting, he seemed almost relieved.

"You're right. We need to talk. Can I come by the smithy later?" Maker, but he really looked wrecked.

She nodded briefly, not sure whether she could trust her voice.

He arrived at the appointed hour, and he came straight to the point. "Cassandra. I don't think I can do it anymore. I… I'm no longer fit for duty, and I've come to ask you to recommend a replacement for me. It's either that or I go back to taking lyrium."

Cassandra held her breath. She hadn't expected this. She'd thought he'd ask for her advice, maybe needed to vent a bit. But for him to just give up…

Searchingly, she looked at his face. She could see his exhaustion, and felt a sudden rush of sympathy. He had suffered so much for this, and it was more than understandable if he was tired of it. But she still believed in him. He had shown such incredible courage, such tenacity, such a fierce determination to break free from his lyrium leash. There was no way she would let him surrender now. It would destroy him, and she couldn't allow that to happen.

"No." Taking a step back, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for his reaction.

Its vehemence took her by surprise. " _What_?" There was a flash of passion in his eyes that hit her right in the guts. "What do you mean, no?"

"I won't do it." She was proud of herself for remaining so calm. "And neither will you take lyrium again. You can handle this. If anyone can, it's you."

"But you gave me your word." If anything, her quiet composure seemed to make him even more agitated. "You can't just refuse now, damn it!" His hands balled into fists and his lips turned up in a snarl. "You can't!"

"I can and I will." Deliberately, Cassandra allowed a sharp edge to creep into her voice.

She was pleased to see him come to his senses immediately. Taking a step back, he lowered his fists, muttering an apology.

"And people say _I_ am stubborn." She shook her head.

She had never seen him so close to losing control, and for all her bluster, she'd been almost scared. And at the same time, to see him so passionate made her mind go to other places in spite of herself.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, sounding considerably more subdued. "But surely you must see-"

"I _know_ what I see, Cullen. I am a Seeker of Truth." Instinctively, she stood a little straighter, held her head up higher. "This is what I was trained for. I assure you I'm fully able to evaluate this situation, and I'm telling you that what you're asking for is unnecessary. All you need is a little rest."

"If I'm unable to do my duty, I'm endangering us all. In Andraste's name, Cassandra, we need to keep a clear head. Please don't let your judgement be clouded by-" He broke off, blushing fiercely.

_By what?_ She wasn't sure she'd heard right. " _We_ need to keep a clear head," he'd said. Did that mean- Her treacherous heart beat faster, but surely, she was reading too much into his words. He couldn't mean what she wanted him to mean. And anyway, she had to focus on the matter at hand. It was too important to let go.

"Look, Cullen." She forced herself to meet his gaze. "We're friends and we have both sworn our duty to the Inquisition. Whatever else is or isn't between us…" Maker, this was _hard_ , but she made herself go on. "You can trust me to be honest with you. And I know you can deal with this, even if it's hard."

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression too troubled for her to read clearly. Was that longing in his eyes, or fear, or both? She didn't know.

Finally, he turned away, and when he spoke, his voice sounded different, much calmer than before. "Thank you. For giving me strength, once again."

"You're welcome." She managed to keep up the calm façade until he'd left. But as soon as he'd closed the door behind him, she began to tremble. _What in the Maker's name was that about?_


	17. Chapter 17

One look at the official Inquisition parade uniforms had been enough to convince Alec that they wouldn't do. "No, Josie. Just no." He'd eyed the crimson monstrosities in utter disgust. "I look terrible in red. And it would be a crime for you ladies to hide your beauty behind those stiff collars."

Madame Gabrielle was easily persuaded to send her staff to Skyhold for a fitting session. As soon as Alec mentioned that her gowns and uniforms would be worn at Halamshiral, in the presence of Empress Celene and her most distinguished courtiers, the woman had practically fallen over her feet in an effort to please them. Alec and Josephine, eagerly supported by Vivienne and Dorian, had spent several hours locked up with the tailors to work out a look that suited all their needs.

Alec, Dorian, and Cullen would stick with the traditional uniform patterns, but in a deep azure blue that brought out the colour of Alec's eyes. The Iron Bull had a version specially designed for him, with flowing silk pants and a leather harness that left most of his massive chest bare. It was a calculated provocation, but Vivienne had assured them that the courtiers would love it. _He looks exotic and dangerous, darling. Perfect._

The ladies would wear an identical dress in different colours. They finally agreed on a deceptively simple ball gown with long sleeves and a tight bodice, and a long, flowing skirt. Cassandra's was a deep, dark red, while Leliana had opted for bright green. Josephine was sticking with her signature yellow and Vivienne had picked a silvery white fabric. The only common denominator was a narrow dark blue sash that matched the men's uniforms.

When they arrived at the Winter Palace and Alec looked them all over, he was well pleased. "I told you, if we do this, we do it properly." Solicitously, he brushed a speck of lint from Dorian's shoulder while they were waiting to be officially announced, with all their names and titles. "Maker, but this feels strange. Just like home."

"Tell me about it." Dorian was smiling at him, but he looked nervous and not quite at ease. "It's all so familiar, almost like a soiree in Minrathous. I half expect my mother to show up and criticize my manners."

"Lord Inquisitor Trevelyan, son of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick." The announcer's pompous voice drove them apart.

"Right. See you later then. And don't forget I expect a dance before this is over." Alec glanced back over his shoulder just in time to catch the surprised look on Dorian's face.

Moments later, all eyes were on him, and he straightened up instinctively. His mother's constant admonitions when he was a boy immediately came back to him, all the rules he'd done his best to forget during his misspent youth. Suddenly he was glad he knew exactly how to hold his head, how to place his feet. He made it all the way up to Celene's throne without embarrassing himself or the Inquisition, and he was quite proud of himself.

The Empress was pretty much as he'd expected, strikingly dressed, most of her face hidden behind the inevitable mask, her smile cool and distant. Alec acquitted himself moderately well, he thought, and he was relieved when the official introduction was over and he was allowed to mingle.

Much to his astonishment, the nobles of the court seemed to like him. Maybe it was just the thrill of meeting an actual hero, or maybe his dashing appearance helped matters, but it couldn't be denied that his company was highly sought after. And he worked hard to keep it that way, smiling at faded beauties and smooth-tongued noblemen, careful never to say too much, not to promise anything, and to keep his real thoughts to himself.

"Ah, Inquisitor, you are a delight." The legendary Lady Mantillon favoured him with a wide smile. She'd been a famous beauty when she was younger, Josephine had said. Of course that had been a long time ago.

But there was no shirking his duty. Carefully hiding his boredom behind a mask of captive interest, Alec worked his way through the ballroom, waiting for Leliana's signal that he could sneak away for a bit. He couldn't wait to explore the rest of the Winter Palace. Something was going on here, that much was sure, and it wasn't just the usual courtly intrigues.

* * *

Nervously, Cassandra fiddled with her dress. The neckline was considerably higher than the current courtly fashion, much to her relief, but even so it felt strange to be out of armour. And surely, she looked ridiculous, her arms too muscular and her hair too short and practical to go with this sort of attire. Alec had kept assuring her that she was _stunning_ , but she had a hard time believing him.

Now, Cullen on the other hand… Just looking at him in his dark blue uniform made her throat go dry. And she wasn't the only one who had noticed. Swarms of ladies were surrounding him, playing coyly with their fans and fluttering their eyes at him. He didn't seem too happy with their attention, but some part of her wondered whether it wouldn't go to his head after all.

"Cassandra. How are you doing?" Alec was clearly amused by the look on her face. "Bored already."

"Maker, yes." Try as she might, she didn't succeed in hiding her disgust. "Really, these people… The world is burning, and they just chatter idly and waste their time on pleasantries. I don't know how you stand it."

Alec laughed softly. "It's not too bad. The punch is decent, at least, and the music is exquisite. But I can see why you'd hate it. Our dear Commander is at the end of his tether, too, I think. From what he's told me, he's been getting marriage proposals all night. Really, I'm beginning to get jealous."

"You of all people have no reason, from what I've heard, Inquisitor." And there he was, Cullen himself, suddenly right at her elbow, and Cassandra jumped. "Besides, there are plenty of unmarried young ladies to go around. That ancient dowager over there has already offered me the pick of her twelve daughters. I'm sure she has one to spare for you. Oh dear, she's spotted me again, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry." Alec grinned slyly. "Leave her to me. I know just how to talk to her."

"Do you, now?" Cassandra felt a smile tugging at her lips.

"Of course." Flashing her another grin, Alec headed for the lady in question. "Don't forget, I've had a lifetime of practice when it comes to avoiding the perfect match for me."

Cassandra watched him intercept the dowager's path, smiling and raising her withered hand to his lips, everything about him screaming _I'm the ideal son-in-law_.

Next to her, Cullen awkwardly cleared his throat. When Cassandra turned to face him, she realized he was watching her, with an expression that was nothing short of adoring. It was as if he couldn't tear his eyes off her.

"You look… different." She could see his Adam's apple bob up and down. "Different and lovely."

"Thank you. You've been getting quite a bit of attention yourself." She bit her lip hard, not daring to meet his gaze.

_Oh for Andraste's sake, this is ridiculous._ She had faced dragons and demons, surely she could pluck up the courage to look at him? And then she felt his hand on her bare wrist, uncertain and hesitant, but even so his touch almost made her swoon.

"Yours is the only attention worth having." His voice was rough as sandpaper. "Cassandra, we need to-"

"Ah, Commander Cullen! You must meet my darling niece." A formidable grey-haired matron, dressed in a violent shade of orange, was sailing toward them, with a rather mousy-looking girl in tow. "Elizabeth, stand up straight now!"

And just like that, the moment was past. Cullen sighed deeply and bowed to the lady, smiling blandly at her chatter. Cassandra stepped discreetly aside, keeping her face neutral. But her heart was beating wildly against her ribs. _Yours is the only attention worth having_ , he'd said. There had to be a way to sort this out.

* * *

It had been one of the oddest evenings of his whole life, Dorian was sure of it.

He'd enjoyed watching Alec move among the courtiers, so assured, so smooth, as if he'd never done anything else in all his life. It was an attractive look on him, and of course the finery he was wearing didn't hurt. The way his pants were clinging to his strong thighs, emphasized by the high boots, the line of his shoulders in the uniform jacket – it was difficult not to drool too obviously over him. And when he'd danced with Grand Duchess Florianne, wowing the court with his grace and elegance, Dorian had nearly burst with pride. More than anything he'd wished he could lay claim to Alec in public, but of course that was out of the question. The Inquisition had enough to worry about without him creating a scandal.

The evening had taken a turn for the adventurous when they'd snuck away to explore first the guest wing, and then the servants' quarters of the palace, in an attempt to foil the plans to assassinate Empress Celene. They'd quickly found out that Celene had been well aware of the risk, and had, in fact, set plans of her own in motion already. The Empress was a true mistress of the Grand Game. And yet, even she hadn't considered the possibility that Florianne, her own cousin, would betray her to Corypheus.

By far the most bizarre moment had been when they'd discovered Grand Duke Gaspard's guard captain in the Royal Wing, tied buck naked to the Empress's bedposts. Dorian shook his head, chuckling at the memory. Really, those Orlesian nobles were something else. The young man's loss of dignity had been their gain, though. His readiness to testify against Celene and expose her intrigues had given them the necessary edge in the negotiations with the Empress and Gaspard and Briala.

In the end, Alec had achieved the unimaginable and reconciled the Empress both with her cousin and her former lover. Not by blackmailing them, no, nothing so crude. A few thinly veiled threats had sufficed to make them listen. And after he'd made sure they were taking him seriously, Alec had shamed them into cooperating with just a few well-placed words. _You could do so much for Orlais and your people if you stopped fighting._ Dorian had been truly impressed. He couldn't recall ever seeing Alec so… poised, so sure of himself, every inch the Inquisitor.

It was all over now. Florianne had been led off to await her trial, Gaspard de Chalons was an honoured member of the Empress's cabinet once again, and Briala was still happily pulling the strings in the background. Lady Morrigan, Celene's "arcane advisor", had become her liaison at Skyhold. Dorian was still reserving judgment on her. He definitely didn't trust the woman.

Once again, the Inquisition had saved the day. Everyone was celebrating, wine and punch were flowing freely, and every imaginable Orlesian frivolity was brought out to entertain the guests. Dorian was growing tired of it all, the congratulations, the snide remarks, even the admiring glances and explicit offers he'd garnered during the evening.

All he wanted was a few minutes alone with Alec, but it took him a while to find his beloved. Neither Cullen nor Leliana knew where he'd disappeared to. In the end, the Iron Bull pointed Dorian to the balcony at the northern end of the grand ballroom. Alec was alone out there, gazing out over the moonlit gardens, looking tired but happy.

When he heard Dorian approach, he turned and easily melted into his arms. "We did it."

Dorian didn't have the heart to push him away, even though he knew there had to be at least a dozen pairs of eyes trained on them right now. Embracing Alec tightly, he patted his back in a chaste caress. " _You_ did it. You are amazing."

Alec laughed huskily, rolling his hips against him in a slow, suggestive movement. "You still owe me that dance."

Dorian hurriedly took a step backwards. "Dancing with the evil magister, here, where anyone can see us? You can't be serious!"

"Why not?" Alec tossed his head back in a gesture of pure defiance, his hands settling firmly on Dorian's waist. "Blight it, Dorian, I'm the fucking Inquisitor. We just saved the Empress's life. If I want to be with you, then I'll damn well do it. I refuse to hide you, or what is between us. And if they want to wag their tongues about us, then let them. I don't care."

"Whatever happened to 'there's no point in antagonizing everyone'?" Dorian raised an eyebrow. "I distinctly remember you telling me you were happy to go along with everybody's expectations of you because it was so much easier."

"Yeah, well, that was before-" Alec broke off, blushing slightly.

"Before what?" When he didn't reply, Dorian tentatively reached out to put a hand on his cheek. "Before what, _amatus_?"

"Before we made love. Before I realized how much I care." Alec sounded hoarse, but he met Dorian's gaze without flinching. "How much I love you."

Dorian inhaled sharply. "Big words."

"Oh, come on, Dorian." The soft expression in Alec's eyes was replaced by a flash of anger. "It's not as if I'm the first to use the big words." He shook his head with an impatient snort. "I asked Bull what it means. _Amatus_. Beloved."

"I…" Dorian felt his cheeks heat up. For a split second, he was tempted to make a flippant remark, but then he saw the raw vulnerability in Alec's expression, and he realized he couldn't do it. "That's true."

"Is it?" There was a tremor in Alec's voice. "Is it true?" His hands tightened on Dorian's hips.

"You know it is." Dorian allowed himself to be pulled into a fierce embrace. " _Amatus_. I love you."

Soft music was wafting out from the ballroom, and the scent of lilac and jasmine from the gardens enveloped them as they slowly swayed to the mellow tune, holding each other tightly. If anyone happened to see them, they kept well away and didn't disturb their moment together. For a few blissful minutes, there was just the two of them, moving in perfect harmony. And Dorian knew with absolute clarity that they belonged together.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Alec drew back the bowstring and let loose with a resigned sigh. The arrow flew true, and the snoufleur dropped dead on the spot. Of course it did. It was hardly an achievement to hit a creature that moved at the speed of an arthritic snail at the best of times and was far too clumsy to navigate the frozen surface of the lake.

"Really, this isn't hunting, it's plain old butchery." He spat on the ground in disgust. "And boring to boot."

They were surrounded by snoufleur carcasses. Alec had killed at least ten of them today alone, and the remaining ones didn't even make an effort to flee. _Stupid as well as slow._

Dorian grinned rather smugly. "You know, I'd love to help you out with a well-placed fireball or two, but that would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

Alec glared at him. "We need the skins, you know that as well as I do. They may be ugly, but they'll keep our soldiers warm. Actually, I was thinking of commissioning a coat for you, too."

"No way." Dorian's expression immediately changed to a look of alarm. "The last thing I want is to look like one of those piglets myself. There must be something else I can wear!"

Alec hid his own grin behind his thick velvet scarf. He had long ago set aside a number of exceptionally beautiful fox pelts for Dorian, but it was fun teasing him. Tonight, he would surprise him with the finished fur coat, and he rather looked forward to the expected professions of gratitude.

Dorian would need the extra layer if they were going to continue exploring the snow-covered hills of Emprise du Lion. At least they wouldn't be forced to sleep in tents any longer. Two days ago, Suledin Keep had fallen to their determined assault, and the tireless workmen of the Inquisition had already succeeded in making a fair number of the dilapidated rooms habitable. No more camping in the ice and snow while they were here.

And now that the demon Imshael was slain and the village was safe again, they had gained a valuable new agent for the Inqusition as well. Alec had spent a decidedly agreeable evening with Michel de Chevin, Empress Celene's disgraced former champion. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find Michel was not the stuck-up noble he'd taken him to be at first, but instead a shining example of what a real chevalier should be, humble and courageous and passionate. _And not bad-looking either._ Alec smiled at the thought.

"You seem quite pleased with yourself all of a sudden." Dorian sounded a little sour.

"I was just thinking of how good it will be to have Michel at our side in the future." Alec replied without thinking. "He's an able warrior, and he knows a lot about the workings of the Orlesian court, too. We can use his help."

" _Michel_ , is it?" Dorian's eyes had narrowed. "Are you two such close friends already?"

Alec felt a rush of heat to his groin. Oh, how he loved seeing that jealous gleam in his lover's eyes… He couldn't resist pushing him a little further. "I do enjoy his company, yes. Quite a lot."

"Of course you do." Dorian was speaking through clenched teeth now. "You could hardly tear yourself away from him last night."

"Yeah, we had a really good time." Alec smiled innocently. "He has such interesting stories to tell. A real hero."

"Truly dashing." Oh, Dorian was close to snapping now. _And he's so damn hot when he loses control._ "With his shiny breastplate and his golden hair and-"

"You think I recruited him because he's _pretty_?" Alec shook his head, finally taking pity on Dorian. "Silly mage. As if anyone could be prettier than you."

Dropping his bow, he stepped closer to Dorian and grabbed him by the neck, taking advantage of the fact that they were alone to pull him into a fierce, fervent kiss. Dorian struggled for a heartbeat, but then gave in, returning the kiss with the same ferocious intensity. Only the icy cold kept them from going any further, and they were both panting by the time they pulled apart.

"Just you wait until we get back to the Keep." Dorian's voice was barely a hiss. "I'll make you pay for this."

Alec moaned shamelessly. "Yes. Please do."

The evening turned out even better than he had anticipated.

They found the hot springs a few days later, on the other side of Judicael's Crossing. Thick clouds of steam were raising from the pools in the ground, smelling faintly of sulphur, but still incredibly inviting.

"Come on, boss." Bull was eyeing the hot water longingly. "Let's take a dip. This is too good a chance to miss."

"Are you crazy?" Alec raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny he was tempted as well. "We're in enemy territory, and you suggest we get naked?"

Dorian laughed nervously, but he, too, couldn't take his eyes off the pools. "Most unwise. Besides, it's freezing. We will all catch our death if we-"

"Poppycock!" Blackwall shook his huge, hairy head. "Speak for yourself. If you're too delicate you can keep watch, but I'm not afraid to get a little wet. What do you say, Inquisitor?"

Alec chewed his lip thoughtfully. It _was_ a lovely idea, to get rid of their armour for a while and soak in the hot water. For once, they didn't have to worry about propriety, since none of the women were with them. And it really wouldn't be all that risky. They hadn't seen any sign of their foes for the past few miles, and Slobber would faithfully keep watch, if he told him so…

"All right." He reached for the shoulder straps of his armour. "But we'll have to be quick about it. Come here, Slobber. Sit."

Only minutes later, his toes were sinking into the soft, chalky bottom of the pool as he made his way to a little ledge where he could stretch out and enjoy the blissful sensation of the water caressing his body. Bull hadn't wasted any time either and was already submerged up to his waist, moaning with undisguised delight. Blackwall joined them shortly after.

To Alec's surprise, Dorian took his time getting naked, and when he had finally stripped completely, he walked over to them with slow, purposeful steps, as if wholly unconcerned about displaying his naked body. Only he wasn't, Alec realized with a sudden twinge of discomfort. He wasn't unconcerned, he was deliberately _showing off_ his magnificent physique, and thoroughly enjoying the reactions he provoked.

Blackwall was visibly uncomfortable, doing his best to look the other way, while Bull was ogling Dorian openly, his lips unconsciously shaping themselves into an appreciative whistle. And Alec himself was immediately, inescapably aroused, and grateful for the milky sheen of the water that hid his plight. For the life of him, he couldn't take his eyes off his lover. It was such a mouth-watering sight: the way the silvery drops were dancing on his smooth brown skin; the muscles playing in his stomach; the grace and beauty of every move he made.

"Ah, boss, you're a lucky man." Bull sighed yearningly. "If all of this were mine, I wouldn't waste any time closing rifts and chasing demons."

Alec expected Dorian to make some sarcastic retort, but instead he flashed a coy smile at Bull, stretching voluptuously. "Sounds as if you have something more _exciting_ to suggest?"

Bull threw his massive head back, roaring with laughter. "You bet I could come up with something! I bet you'd just love it if-"

Alec coughed sharply, and Bull swallowed what he'd been about to say. There was a long moment of embarrassed silence, while he looked from one of them to the other, but then he began to chuckle.

"Sly fox." Bull regarded Dorian with reluctant respect. "You know just how to play him, don't you?"

Alec opened his mouth to reply, but right at this moment, a dark shadow passed above him, and when he looked up, he forgot all about their little squabble. "Shit! A dragon!"

"Not just one. Two!" Dorian was out of the water in a flash, scrambling for his robes. "Sweet Andraste!"

And indeed a second shadow followed the first, too fast for them to make out details, but there could be no doubt about it. Definitely dragons. Neither of them spoke while they got dressed and made their way back to the Keep. Their mission to claim Emprise du Lion for the Inquisition had just become a _lot_ more hazardous.

* * *

The workmen had done a fine job. True, the windows were patched with wood instead of glass panes, and the floorboards below the thick carpet were uneven and creaky. But the draughty gaps in the walls had been properly stopped, and a nice warm fire in the hearth made up for the lack of furniture. There was a bed, at least, a massive ancient four-poster with an elaborately carved headboard and a well-stuffed mattress. No, Dorian saw no reason to complain. It was certainly better than a flimsy tent, considering the glacial temperatures outside.

It was late at night when Alec finally showed up. No doubt Baron Desjardins and the others had wanted a detailed report on the dragon threat. Not that Alec would have been able to help them much with that. They'd only caught a glimpse of the creatures, after all, and they'd all been too distracted to notice any specifics.

Alec looked guilty and subdued, and rather charmingly uncertain, as if he wasn't sure of his welcome. He was staring down at his hands, his fingers clenching and unclenching, as if he was struggling to find the right words.

"Dorian, I… I wanted to apologize." His throat moved convulsively as he swallowed hard. "I've been thinking about this afternoon, and I never-" He finally looked up to meet Dorian's gaze. "I never realized how much that kind of thing _hurts_. Making you jealous… it was just a game for me, just a way to spice things up a little, but it was never my intention to be cruel, I swear."

"It's fine." Dorian was already considerably mollified. "It _is_ an added thrill, I'll give you that." Seeing Alec back at the springs, all worked up and so _angry_ at the same time… It had been quite a turn-on for him, too. "Just… don't overdo it. You're not the only one who has other options, you know?"

Alec's eyes grew impossibly dark. Two quick steps took him right in front of Dorian. Gripping him hard by his robes, he practically growled. "You're mine, Dorian. Only mine."

_Oh._ This was… more than hot, actually. Dorian closed his eyes, trying to control the flurry of excitement in his stomach. "Then make me yours. All yours."

"You mean…" Alec inhaled sharply. "Maker, Dorian!"

His voice was hoarse and he seemed almost feverish. But there was no hesitation, no uncertainty, as he began undressing Dorian, as fast as he could without damaging his clothes. Yet, when Dorian reached for the straps of his armour, Alec batted his hand aside with a warning snarl.

A wild surge of heat rose inside him. Alec was usually so compliant in bed, so ready to fulfil all his whims and wishes. Seeing him like this was new, and Dorian was thrilled and eager to play along.

"How do you want me, _amatus_?" Shaking with desire, he wiggled out of his remaining clothes and waited, inclining his head the tiniest bit.

A shudder ran over Alec's body. He was throwing off his own clothes without regard for where they landed. "On the bed. On your hands and knees."

Dorian obeyed willingly, positioning himself as invitingly as he could, shivering with impatience when Alec fumbled around in the nightstand for oil. And then, with a suddenness that made him jump, Alec's hand was on his flank, warm but firm, and Alec's mouth was on him, breathing a soft kiss right between his shoulder blades. Such a simple caress, but it ignited every nerve in his body and made him mewl and whimper like a kitten.

Alec made a small, soothing noise, and then his lips slowly wandered lower, all the way down Dorian's spine. His tongue flicked against each vertebra in turn as he progressed, and Maker, it was the sweetest torment ever. Dorian was a wreck by the time Alec reached his goal, so hard he was sorely tempted to drop on his belly and rub himself against the sheets to gain at least a little relief. But Alec was merciless, holding him in place with one hand as he began stretching and caressing him with the other. He wasn't rough, but he wasn't overly gentle either, and Dorian welcomed his touch with every fibre of his being. He had wanted this for quite some time, he realized, and he shouldn't have waited so long; he should have told Alec long ago.

"Alec, please. I'm ready." He twisted his head back to see his lover's face, and the look of intense concentration on those handsome features nearly made him come undone. "Please," he repeated, and his voice sounded as wrecked as he felt.

Alec nodded once, withdrawing his hand. The empty feeling lasted only a moment, thankfully, because then he was _there_ , pushing in with single-minded determination. And Dorian wanted to scream because it felt so good, taking in all of him, so sweet, so full, so overwhelming. Alec's hands were gripping him tightly, and he kept whispering Dorian's name, over and over, and that, too, was so incredibly hot.

He was moving slowly and carefully, and every deep stroke of his was a delight in itself, an intimate caress, a sincere confirmation of their bond. It was so perfect, so intense, that Dorian held nothing back, giving himself up completely to the moment. All he knew, all he felt was the rhythm they shared, faster now, harder, jerkier, because Alec was human, after all, and anything but unaffected by it all.

And then, with shocking suddenness, he pulled back, impatiently flipping Dorian over on his back. "I need to see your face. I need to-"

Dorian nodded, pulling him back in, arching up to accommodate him. And yes, this was even better, because now he could watch Alec move and admire the beautiful, sensual roll of his hips. He could reach up and touch his face, and pull him down for a kiss, and then another, greedy, open-mouthed kisses that took away his last shred of control.

Alec was close, so close, he could feel it, holding on by sheer determination. Yet, in the end, it was Dorian who came first, moaning and writhing, no longer able to do anything but lie back and let the pleasure claim him, clinging to Alec as if he was his lifeline. His own moans were echoed by Alec only moments later, and then he felt the heavy weight of a warm body on his, only briefly, until Alec pulled back, ever considerate.

"Dorian?" There was a sliver of doubt in his tone, and it was utterly endearing. "Are you… Was that all right?"

He almost laughed out loud, sheer joy bubbling up irresistibly inside him. "All right?" Pulling Alec back in, he gazed into his bright blue eyes, unable to stop smiling. "A lot more than all right, _amatus_. Thank you."

"Thank _you_." Alec looked relieved. "For being mine."

"Yours." Dorian had to swallow. "Only yours. Always."

* * *

_I won't compare you to a dainty flower, you're neither dainty nor…_ No that was all wrong. It sounded as if he wanted to criticize Cassandra for being strong, when in fact, all he wanted to say was how much he admired her for it. And the rhythm was all bumpy and the imagery too crude and…

Cullen balled up the paper with a violent curse and tossed it into the corner, where it joined his earlier scrawled attempts at poetry. _Maker, why does this have to be so difficult?_ He knew what he was feeling, he wanted to tell her what was in his heart, wanted to show her how much he cared. But pretty words were considerably harder to beat into shape than raw recruits, and he had simply no _talent_ for this, none at all!

Maybe he should just give up and send her flowers instead. But which kind? Would she like roses or violets better? Or were both too trite, too banal? And anyway, wouldn't he need to add a note? He could hardly keep her guessing who sent them. Then again, who else would it be? He chastised himself for the thought immediately. Maybe she had several admirers. There was no reason at all why he would be the only one to notice how beautiful she was, how capable, how adorable when she blushed, how…

With a desperate whine, Cullen dropped into his chair. He was one step away from asking Varric for advice, and that would almost certainly be a bad idea. _Why is this so damn hard?_


	19. Chapter 19

Alec liked Varric, had done so from the first day they'd met, despite the less-than-pleasant circumstances. But he still wasn't completely sure he could trust him. Cassandra's warnings about _that dwarf_ _and his tall tales_ were still ringing in his ears. Besides, Varric had deflected all his questions about the Champion of Kirkwall so far, just like any inquiries about himself and his past. For all his geniality, the dwarf was a slippery customer.

In light of all this, it came as quite a surprise when Varric offered to introduce him to _an old friend_ of his. Surely this couldn't be who he thought it was? Alec was more intrigued than he cared to admit, and he willingly agreed to all of Varric's stipulations of secrecy in order to meet the mystery man. He wasn't disappointed.

"Meet the Champion of Kirkwall. Revon Hawke." Varric sounded uncharacteristically distant, almost wary, as he introduced his famous acquaintance.

Revon Hawke. Alec swallowed when he set eyes upon the man. That he was a mage was easy to tell, for all his efforts to hide his nature behind shabby, homespun clothing. He wasn't carrying a fancy staff either, just a simple wooden stick, but the aura of magic surrounding him was so strong Alec could almost taste it. Living in such close quarters with Dorian had taught him how to recognize magical ability, and Hawke was clearly incredibly powerful. Powerful enough to rival Vivienne or Solas, powerful enough to be dangerous.

He was also… beautiful, there was no other word for it. 'Good-looking' didn't come close, though he did look tired and worn-out. The chiselled lines of his cheekbones, perfectly set off by artful tattoos; the luminous amber of his eyes, surrounded by long, silky lashes; the luscious fullness of his lips; the soft, golden sheen of his skin - all of it combined to give him an ethereal beauty that Alec had only ever seen in women.

And yet, there was nothing feminine about Revon Hawke, nothing at all. His cheeks were covered in dark stubble, and though his black hair was longish, it was tied severely back and did nothing to soften his features. And his build was muscular, with well-defined arms and strong shoulders, his movements full of grace and power. _A fighter as well as a mage, then._

Oh yes, Revon Hawke was dangerous, in every imaginable way.

Again, Alec had to fight back a shudder, remembering what Leliana had told him about the man. According to her, the official story about a poor, crazed apostate from Darktown who had run amok was one of Varric’s more elaborate fabrications. _Nothing but a fairy tale made up to preserve the Champion's good name._ If what Leliana said was true, Hawke had been behind the Chantry explosion himself, driven to it by a spirit of justice that had possessed him. _Or maybe a demon_.

Could it be true? Had the Champion of Kirkwall really caused the deaths of thousands of its citizens? Had he been the one to set in motion the events that had led them all here? Alec sighed. So many questions, but he had to focus on the matter at hand.

"Inquisitor." Hawke nodded at him, his expression unreadable.

"Champion." Alec would have grinned at their terse exchange, if the situation hadn't been so loaded.

"I don't really use that title much anymore." Hawke's voice was smooth and deep, but there was a mocking, almost cruel set to his mouth, and his eyes remained cool.

"Hawke may be able to advise you about Corypheus." Varric was obviously doing his best to defuse the growing tension.

Hawke nodded reluctantly. "I'm sure you can use my help, Inquisitor, with all of Thedas depending on you." There it was again, a hint of mockery, of derision behind the respectful words. "We've fought and killed the bastard before. I must admit that I had expected him to stay dead."

Alec snorted. "Yes. But that would have been too much to ask, I guess. So, what's your advice?"

"Somehow, and I can't tell you exactly how at this point…" Hawke paused for effect, clearly enjoying the attention he was getting. "The Grey Wardens are involved in this. Corypheus messed with them once, and I have reason to believe he's doing so again. Luckily for you, I have contacts in the Fereldan Wardens." This time there was no mistaking the sneer on his face, and Alec wondered what it signified. "I will put you in touch with one of them, as soon as I know where exactly we can meet him. Somewhere in Crestwood, he said. His name is Nathaniel Howe."

"Thank you. I appreciate your help." Alec inclined his head politely.

Hawke nodded coolly. "I'm curious myself. From what Varric told me, red lyrium plays a role in all of this. This could be relevant to my own interests."

_And clearly those are what you care about most._ Alec had rarely met a more self-absorbed person, but he knew he couldn't afford to waste a chance to learn more about Corypheus' plans. "I know you don't wish to be seen, but I have to ask you not to leave just yet. My advisors need to hear about this."

It was obvious that Hawke wasn't enthusiastic about the idea, but he agreed to join them in the war room at a hastily convened war council. Cassandra was glaring at him, clearly furious that she hadn't known about him before, but Alec ignored her for the time being.

"What do we know about this Nathaniel Howe, Leliana?" Somehow the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

The spymaster glanced at her hastily assembled notes, though it was obvious she didn't really need them. "Nathaniel Howe, eldest and only surviving son of the disgraced Arl Rendon Howe, who was killed as a traitor during the Blight, forfeiting his titles and fortune. Nathaniel became a Warden, and he's now Commander Cousland's right-hand man as well as one of her two lovers."

"One of two?" Alec raised a surprised eyebrow. _Maker, I have such a boring life!_ "The other one being…"

"Carver Hawke. The Champion's younger brother." Revon's face remained carefully neutral at this revelation, but Leliana's smile was more than a little suggestive. "Warden-Commander Cousland is an exceptional woman, Inquisitor. She does what pleases her, always has."

"You knew her during the Blight, didn't you?" Alec thoughtfully scratched his neck. "What about Howe? Was he at her side then?"

"No." Leliana shook her head. "I've never met him. He was a squire in the Free Marches back then."

"I knew the name sounded familiar!" Alec grinned triumphantly. "An archer, right? I remember watching him compete at the Grand Tourney. Quite amazingly skilled. Seeing him there was one of the main reasons I took up archery, to be honest."

_And also the moment when I_ _first began to question some other things about myself_. Alec smiled nostalgically. Quite aside from his amazing prowess with the bow, Howe had also been pure sex on legs. Tall, dark and broody, and the way he'd draw back that string, all poise and barely restrained tension… _I wouldn't mind seeing him again._ Though, of course, that had been more than ten years ago.

"I want to meet Howe, as soon as it can be arranged." For once, Alec was actually looking forward to a mission.

"Duly noted, Inquisitor." Leliana made a quick note. "Now, seeing as we're all here, I believe there are a few ramifications of the events at the Winter Palace we should discuss and-"

Hawke yawned, looking bored. "If you don't mind, I'd rather take my leave now, Inquisitor. I believe Varric is waiting for me somewhere outside."

"Of course. If the others will excuse me for a moment, I'll take you there by a less conspicuous route." Alec's offer had been automatic, a mere gesture of politeness, but it seemed to please Hawke.

As they walked side by side through one of Skyhold's many unused corridors, he gave Alec an appraising glance, chuckling softly. "Secret passages, courtly intrigues… You are not as dull as you first appear, Inquisitor. Is it true what they say about you and that mage from Tevinter?"

Alec was taken aback. "Dorian and I are together, if that's what you mean."

"So you, too, have discovered the special pleasures a mage can offer." Hawke grinned suggestively. "Good for you. Enjoy him while you can."

Alec wasn't sure what to reply, so he just smiled. But those words kept haunting him all through their long and rather tedious meeting. He really had to ask Dorian what this had been about.

* * *

"Come to bed." Dorian was getting a tiny bit impatient.

They were both undressed, ready to slide under the soft warm sheets, but Alec was dithering, leaning against the windowsill and gazing out into the starry night sky.

"In a moment." Alec stretched, flexing his shoulders. "I'm just… Meeting Hawke was quite the experience, you know."

"What is he like?" Curiosity won out. Dorian knew the Champion of Kirkwall was a mage, too, and that was intriguing, to say the least.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, facing Alec who was still pacing to and fro like a caged tiger.

"Honestly? He gives me the chills." Alec shuddered. "There's something off about him, something… missing. I can't quite put my finger on it, but-"

"Is he really possessed by a spirit?" It was a creepy thought.

"I don't know. There was no sign of it during our meeting. But I wouldn't be surprised either." Alec shrugged. "I don't think he'd be bothered by moral scruples." He turned and finally approached the bed, but something still seemed to be on his mind. "Also, he said something to me before he left. Something about the _special pleasures a mage can offer_. What in Thedas did he mean?"

_Ah. That piqued your interest, didn't it?_ Dorian had actually been pleasantly surprised that Alec had never asked before. There were more than enough people, especially here in the South, who got off on the _thrill of magic_ , and he didn't enjoy being reduced to an exotic delicacy.

"Well, I'm guessing he was referring to the practice of using magic in bed," was all he said aloud. "It's common enough in Tevinter, and probably here as well."

Alec swallowed visibly. "I wouldn't know. I'd never been with a mage before we met. Have you ever…"

"I have experimented a bit, yes." Dorian smiled encouragingly at him.

"But we've never-" Alec was cute like this, a bit embarrassed, trying to feel his way through a conversation where he was clearly out of his depth.

"No, we haven't." Dorian pulled him into his lap, savouring the feel of Alec's bare back against his chest. "Frankly, there was no need so far. Messing around with magic… It's something people do when they get bored." He ran a gentle hand up Alec's chest to his throat, revelling in Alec's brief gasp. "I'm not bored with you, _amatus_. Not by a long stretch."

"Neither am I. With you, I mean." Alec's reaction was a clear testimony to the truth of this statement. Already, he was more than half hard, his skin prickly with gooseflesh. "It's just-"

"You're curious." Dorian hummed softly. "Of course you are. Well, let me see. There's always the elemental stuff, of course. Most battle spells can be toned down to be used for sexual play. Heat, cold, electricity – they're all effective."

He let his hand grow warmer as he massaged Alec's throat, eliciting a long, low moan from him. "Good, yes? But it's tricky. Very easy to overdo." For one brief moment, he allowed the heat to flare up, and Alec flinched. "See? Never try this with an inexperienced mage. Because in this particular case, too much of a good thing _hurts_."

_Or worse_. Dorian had a vivid memory of accidentally setting the bed curtains on fire as a youth. It wasn't something he cared to repeat, ever.

"Dorian!" Alec rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid of a little fire or ice. The potions Kihm taught me to use in battle-"

"Are just as dangerous." Dorian finished for him. "You know I don't like it if you play around with spirit essences. That whole _Tempest_ thing is far too-"

"Sera does it, too." Alec pouted adorably.

"Oh, and that means it's a good idea?" Dorian shook his head. "Look, I'll play if you want to. But there's really nothing I can do with my magic that can't be achieved just as well with a simple candle or an ice cube."

To illustrate his point, he let his index finger go shockingly cold before circling Alec's nipple.

Alec moaned, arching his back. "Maker! That is _nice_ , though. You… you mentioned electricity?"

"Even trickier." Dorian sighed. "Some people adore it, but most-" He moved his hand lower, wrapping it gently around Alec's throbbing cock, and conjured just the faintest tingle…

"Ow!" Alec pulled back with a small yelp. "All right. I get what you're saying. But…" His eyes looked huge and dark in the dim light of the fire, as he twisted around in Dorian's lap. "I don't think you've figured out the full potential yet. You see, you could also use your magic to speed things up…"

Before Dorian could react, he was already flat on his back, with Alec hovering above him, grinning smugly.

"Or to slow things down…" Alec's head dipped lower and Dorian had to bite back an undignified whimper, as he licked a long, lazy stripe all the way up from the base of his cock to the tip.

"Or… how about a touch of paralysis?" Alec's hand settled on his hipbones, holding him firmly down as he took Dorian between his lips, sucking him in deep before releasing him with a playful pop. "So many possibilities…"

"Well, if you insist…." Dorian felt a moan rise in his throat. "I'll think of something. I promise."

* * *

"Why did you ask me to come up here?" Cassandra was confused.

After their return from Halamshiral, she had been so sure that now, finally, they were going to talk about their feelings for each other. Yet, here they were, high up on the battlements, in full view of all of Skyhold. Surely, a more intimate setting would have been appropriate? But Cullen had expressly asked her to meet him here, in this exposed location.

"I…" He had that tormented look about him again, the one that tore at her heartstrings. "Look, Cassandra, for days now I've been wrecking my head how to talk to you about what's in my heart. And then I realized that I'd been going about it all wrong." Cullen sighed deeply. "There are things I need to tell you, important things about me and my past before we even think of what else there could be." He looked at her intently, as if willing her to understand. "Up here… I thought it would be easier to keep control. I wasn't sure I could trust myself, if we were alone."

His voice had dropped on the last few words, to a hoarse rasp that went straight to her core.

Instinctively, Cassandra reached for the rough stone wall behind her, in an effort to ground herself. "You don't need to tell me about Kirkwall, Cullen. I was there, I saw for myself."

"It's not about Kirkwall." The tortured look was back, in full force. "I need to tell you about what happened during the Blight, when I was still assigned to the Circle at Kinloch Hold. Because those memories still haunt me and-" He swallowed hard. "Please, Cassandra. I need you to know the worst about me, even if it means you'll hate me."

"Go on, then." She leaned fully against the wall and motioned for him to start. "I'm listening."

He didn't look at her, while he told his story, while he described the horrors of Uldred's brief reign over the Mage Tower, the indignities inflicted on him by his captors. "They stripped me bare, heart and soul." He sounded so broken that it hurt her to let him go on, but Cassandra knew she had to respect his wish to speak out. "I… I was in love with one of my charges back then, a pretty young mage called Solona."

She must have made some sort of noise in reaction to this surprising revelation, because he finally met her gaze, and the amount of pain and self-loathing in his eyes was staggering. "I never touched her, please believe me. I would never have taken advantage of her situation like that. But I wanted to. Maker, how I wanted to." His face was a mask of guilt and shame. "I knew my feelings were wrong, immoral, unworthy of a Templar. When the desire demon discovered my secret-" He broke off again. "It was worse than a nightmare."

"I was saved eventually, but I was not myself after that, not for a very long time. I was hurt, and angry, so terribly angry, and my anger blinded me. I couldn't bring myself to trust any mage. They were all monsters in my eyes, abominations waiting to happen. I was bitter and I… I closed my eyes to what went on at the Gallows. And I can never forgive myself for that."

"Cullen…" Cassandra could no longer be silent. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"No." He shook his head, his mouth set into an all-too familiar stubborn line. "I'm not proud of the man I was. But I've changed. I swear I have. And if you still want to give me a chance, give us a chance…" He trailed off, looking at her with the faintest gleam of hope in his expression.

She took her time answering, knowing this was important. "You know, I had a dalliance with a mage, when I was still very young. He was the only man I ever-" It was her turn to blush and swallow. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, I understand the foolishness of youth. I won't hold it against you. And as for Kirkwall… You trusted your commander. You served faithfully. I can see no harm in that."

"Meredith was mad, mad with fear and hatred." Cullen looked exhausted now, more than anything else. "I should have questioned her. I should have intervened."

"That is easier said than done." Cassandra snorted. "From what I've heard about Knight-Commander Meredith, she'd probably have had you clapped in chains. Or worse." Ignoring his disbelieving expression, she reached out to take his hand, spectators be damned. "You've gone through nightmarish experiences, Cullen, more than once, and I wish with all my heart that things had been easier for you. And yet, those experiences have made you who you are today. I like the man you have become. I believe you are a faithful man, a good man."

His hand was trembling in hers, but he didn't pull it away, and he didn't interrupt, just stared at her, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I care about you, Cullen. Very much so. And I would like to explore this further, if you want it, too." There. She'd said it.

"I do." It was almost a whisper, but then he straightened up to his full height and looked at her with new-found determination, raising her hand to his lips to breathe a kiss on her knuckles. "Very much so."

 


	20. Chapter 20

Cullen hesitated before knocking on Alec's door. He'd never been to the Inquisitor's private quarters before, and he felt vaguely uncomfortably calling here at this late hour, but it couldn't be helped. Alec would be leaving for Crestwood early tomorrow, and he really needed to talk to him before his departure.

Alec looked faintly surprised when he opened the door, but recovered quickly, asking him to come in with a genuinely friendly smile. Dorian was there, too, lounging in an armchair near the fire with a book in his hand. It was a quiet, domestic scene, and Alec looked happy and relaxed. Much to Cullen's relief, both of them were fully, if casually dressed, though the tightness of Alec's leather pants left little to the imagination.

Dorian raised an eyebrow at seeing him, but put aside his book and offered him a glass of wine, which he declined.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Alec, and I won't linger. But I need to talk to you. About Hawke."

"At least take a seat." Alec motioned toward the remaining armchair.

He settled himself gracefully on the rug at Dorian's feet, leaning back against his lover's legs. Dorian placed a hand lightly on his shoulder and Alec rested his cheek against it for a heartbeat. It was a fleeting caress, but it showed clearly how comfortable they had become with each other, how close they were. _Definitely not just a fling_. Cullen almost envied them.

"Tell me about Hawke, then." Alec's bright blue eyes were fixed on him with quiet attentiveness. "You knew him back in Kirkwall, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't say I knew him." Cullen felt his lip curl into an inadvertent sneer. "But I was definitely familiar with the sight of him. He used to strut around the Gallows after he became Champion, bold as brass, with his staff strapped to his back, as if to remind us that he alone was untouchable. Well, he and his companions. Rumour had it he was involved with a Dalish blood mage who was hiding away in the alienage."

"So he enjoyed provoking you." Alec nodded slowly. "Yes. I can easily imagine that. Is he a blood mage himself?"

Cullen closed his eyes, recalling the final battle against Meredith. "He has to be. I've witnessed him drain the life force from friends and foes alike to sustain his own strength. I've seen enemies bound to his will, turned into mindless husks that obeyed his every command. I've heard his victims scream in pain without any visible wounds, as if they were burning up from the inside. There's no way he could do any of that without blood magic."

"True." For the first time, Dorian spoke up. He looked vaguely disgusted, but not shocked. "Blood magic. _The last resort of the weak mind_ , my father used to call it."

"I wouldn't call Revon Hawke weak-minded." Alec spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "He seemed very clever to me, brilliant even. Just… cold, very cold."

Dorian shrugged. "Blood is a cheap and lazy way to power, in any case. Not to mention messy." He sniffed disdainfully.

Cullen could no longer keep quiet. "For someone so dismissive of blood magic, you're astonishingly comfortable with necromancy, Dorian."

"What do you mean, Commander?" Dorian bristled visibly. "I fail to see a connection here."

"Well, some of your own spells are a bit… unsettling, too." Cullen made a vague apologetic gesture in Alec's direction, but was relieved to find that he didn't look angry.

"He's right, you know." Alec laid back his head to smile up at Dorian. "Walking corpses, spirits called back from the dead… you're not exactly in a position to talk."

"It's not the same thing at all." Dorian was clearly annoyed with the direction the conversation had taken. "What I do has nothing to do with blood magic. I bind spirits temporarily to my will. It's no different from taming a horse or a dog."

Cullen was pretty sure that analogy was shaky, but he decided not to push his point. "Hawke used to fight with a red steel staff," he said aloud. "He's replaced it with a simple wooden stick now, but that thing practically exuded evil."

"He's probably still using it." Dorian yawned dismissively. "He must have charmed it to look harmless. Should be easy enough to find out with the help of a small dispelling or a cleansing."

Cullen flinched internally. _A cleansing. A spell purge_. Did Dorian realize that Cullen could no longer do one, now that he'd forgone the lyrium? Was this a deliberate jab at him, some sort of petty revenge for his earlier criticism? He wouldn't put it past the mage. But he hadn't come here to pick a quarrel with Dorian.

"Right…" He got to his feet, nodding at Alec. "I just wanted to warn you, I guess. Don't trust Hawke. He's not a hero. He's not even a good man. He's dangerous and unstable, and he will sacrifice you in the blink of an eye if it serves his own interests. Don't forget that, Alec."

"I won't." Alec glanced up at him earnestly. "Thank you for the warning, Cullen."

"Don't mention it." Cullen headed for the door with a last nod at the two of them.

Alec appeared sobered, almost shaken. Dorian was quiet, but there was a stubborn, irritable set to his mouth. _He probably thinks I'm prejudiced because Hawke's a mage_. But that couldn't be helped. Cullen had done what he could and hopefully Alec would heed his advice. _And if he doesn't, we will know soon enough._

* * *

The journey to Crestwood took forever. Alec might have a number of misgivings about Hawke, but he was eager to meet Nathaniel Howe, and couldn't wait to get to their destination.

At first glance, the area was unremarkable, just a typical Fereldan landscape; green hills, a village, a keep towering above it, a number of farms scattered across the countryside. No one was likely to question the Inquisition's presence here – there had been enough sightings of Fade rifts in the region, just like everywhere else in southern Thedas.

Of course things turned complicated soon enough. They found a number of hints pointing to some dark secret in the village's past – something to do with the mayor and his actions during the Blight years. Alec fully intended to come back at a later point to find out what exactly had happened here. They would also have to deal with the highwaymen, who had holed up in the old keep, and needed to be flushed out.

On top of it all there was the usual assortment of demons, Venatori, and Red Templars. Not to mention the huge dragon circling over the fens south of the village. They dealt with most of the threats easily enough, but they avoided the dragon's hunting grounds, despite Bull's pleas to "take just one little peek". No use in getting side-tracked, when their main goal was the cave Hawke had described to them; an old smuggler's den, hidden away at a safe distance from the village.

It had taken them quite a bit longer than expected to get there, and Alec half worried that Hawke and the Warden would have given up on him. But here they were, both of them coming forward to greet Alec and his companions. Neither of them looked particularly enthusiastic about meeting the Inquisitor. Hawke was playing it cool, as usual, and Nathaniel Howe appeared to be the quiet, broody type. The two of them were eyeing each other warily while introductions were made. Alec wondered what exactly was going on here, but he had little time to speculate.

"Inquisitor. Commander Cousland sends her regards." Howe gave him an earnest nod, inclining his head just the tiniest bit.

 _Fuck. He's still seriously hot._ Alec just barely stopped himself from whistling through his teeth. There were silver strands running through Howe's mane of long black hair nowadays, and the wrinkles around his eyes made it more than clear his life hadn't been a walk in the park. But his body was strong and powerful, his eyes clear and grey, and the easy confidence he exuded only added to the attraction.

"Warden Howe." Alec nodded back. "It's good of you to come here and help us out. Hawke said you have valuable information for us?"

"Indeed I have." Howe nodded at Hawke in acknowledgement, but his face remained serious. "Commander Clarel, who leads the Wardens of Orlais, summoned all of us, months ago, to join her in a mission to end all blights forever. Or so she said."

Alec frowned. "End all blights? And how would she propose to do that?"

"Her message didn't say." Howe huffed contemptuously. "You may not know it, Inquisitor, but something strange is happening to us Wardens right now. Do you know what the Calling is?"

"Yes." Alec nodded. "One of my great-uncles was a Grey Warden. My father told me stories about him. He died fighting in the Deep Roads after almost thirty years of faithful service."

Howe flinched briefly at this reminder of his own fate. "The Orlesian Wardens believe that all of them are hearing the call of the Archdemon right now. That's why Clarel wants us to join them, to make a last stand together. Or at least that's what we think she wants."

Alec shuddered. "But you haven't followed her summons? Why? Is this call they're hearing restricted to the Orlesian Wardens?"

Howe laughed, but it was a brief, bitter laugh. "We've heard it, too, believe me. However…" A sudden, fond smile transformed his features. "As you may know, one of the Wardens stationed at Vigil's Keep is Carver Hawke, Revon's brother."

Hawke grunted his assent, his face unreadable.

"Carver has had dealings with Corypheus before," Howe continued. "That gave us a chance to realize it wasn't a true Calling. There's no Archdemon behind it, just some evil ploy designed by Corypheus." He shook his head. "Megan – Commander Cousland – expressly forbade any of us to follow Clarel's orders, before this was sorted out. And then Revon showed up and said he was on his way to talk to you, and Megan sent me with him."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Why you? Why not Carver Hawke? Wouldn't that have made more sense?"

Howe's lips twitched briefly. "Maybe she thought it wouldn't be fair to inflict _two_ Hawkes upon you at the same time?"

"Well, I for one am glad I don't have to babysit Carver on this trip." Hawke's tone was full of icy disdain. "At least _you_ can look after yourself, Howe."

Nathaniel seemed unperturbed. "Also, as you can see, the Hawke brothers don't get along all that well. Don't worry, Inquisitor. Carver told me all about his encounter with Corypheus, and Revon was there, too. I'm sure we can handle this together."

* * *

Dorian was glad to be home at Skyhold. All the way through their meeting, Revon Hawke had been watching him with a strange mixture of appraisal and contempt, stripping him naked with his gaze and at the same time dismissing him as a lightweight. It had been infuriating, but subtle enough that he couldn't very well complain.

Alec, on the other hand, had been fairly smitten with the Grey Warden, Nathaniel Howe. They had ended up staying at the cave for the night, and Alec had spent most of the evening at the campfire with Howe. Dorian had kept in the background while the two of them talked archery, comparing their bows and discussing various forms of fletching. They had swapped tales of their exploits, too, and Alec's eyes had been shining with excitement.

Of course, his enthusiasm was understandable in a way. A Warden who knew the Hero of Ferelden (knew her _intimately_ , a nasty little voice in Dorian's head supplied), who had fought at her side… Howe had his fair share of interesting stories to tell. But it had been hard for Dorian not to feel excluded, especially with Hawke's gaze resting upon him all the time, cool and mocking, as if the man enjoyed watching him suffer.

Now, finally, they were back in their room, in their bed, and it was so good to have Alec to himself again. So good to get naked, so good to touch again, be close again. And, oh Maker, he had missed Alec's body so much while they were out and about, that gorgeous body, now spooned around his, strong and warm and wonderful.

"Ah, this is nice." Alec wrapped himself more tightly around Dorian and took hold of his hardening cock. "Mmhmm, you feel so _good_. Just the perfect size and shape, too. As if you were made for my hand."

"Well, maybe I was." Dorian moaned happily. "Created by the Maker exclusively for the Inquisitor's pleasure, at Andraste's special request."

"Stop blaspheming!" Alec bit down quickly on his shoulder, but the smile in his voice was audible. "But really, it's almost like… Ah, no, forget it."

"What?" Dorian wiggled a little in his arms so he could face him. "You can't tease me like that and then tell me to forget it."

"It just reminded me of something Nate said when we were talking about archery." Alec smiled fondly. "About how sometimes a bow feels _just perfect_ in your hand, right from the start, and you know you have to have it. And then you never want to let go of it again."

"Did you just compare my cock to a _bow_?" Dorian wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended.

"Well, they are both things I enjoy touching." Alec chuckled softly and his grip loosened for a moment. "Did you see Nate's bow, by the way? A family heirloom. A gloriously beautiful weapon, and he knows how to use it, too. Ah, if only we'd had more time. I bet he could teach me a thing or two. I mean, his stance is _perfect_ , and there's that single-minded focus he has and-"

"Alec!" Dorian felt his mood darken. "Can you maybe _not_ wax poetic about Howe's many qualities while you're in bed with me?"

"I'm sorry." Alec didn't look particularly repentant. "It's just-"

"How about you practice by directing some of that _focus_ at me?" Dorian rubbed himself shamelessly against Alec and was rewarded with a tightening of his hand and a rough gasp. "Yes. That's better."

They resumed their caresses, grinding against each other. Soon they were both shivering all over. Dorian couldn't recall ever having enjoyed the simple act of touching so much, not with any of his previous lovers. He'd had good sex before Alec, great sex even, but this urge to just _feel_ , to be skin to skin, with not a hair's breadth between them – this was wholly new. Touching Alec was as soothing as it was arousing, even though that should have been a contradiction.

Alec was getting so worked up he was whining with impatience, and suddenly Dorian found he couldn't wait either, not even a moment longer.

Pushing himself up, he sat back on his heels between Alec's legs and began stroking himself, hard and fast. Alec's eyes were fixed on him, wide with excitement, and he simply couldn't stop, couldn't even slow down. The world around him disappeared, narrowed down to just this: the look of total abandonment on Alec's face; the raw pleasure wrung from his body by his own rough grip; the pounding of his blood in his ears, loud enough to drown out everything else.

And then he was coming, all over Alec's chest and stomach, the pattern of pearly white against the tanned gold of his skin almost shocking in its starkness, and yet incredibly beautiful to Dorian's eyes. There was a savage delight in marking Alec, claiming him, _owning_ him in the most primal way. _Mine, all mine!_ Yes, it was crude and primitive, but Dorian didn't care, and Alec… Alec was whimpering with need, writhing in a manner that was positively indecent.

Dorian had no intention of making him wait. Gathering up his spend in one hand, he wrapped his slick fingers around Alec and stroked him once, twice, rough and without any refinement.

Alec's eyes rolled back in his head. "Sweet Maker, Dorian!" The heels of his feet dug deep into the blanket as he cried out his completion, shuddering with the force of it, too beautiful for words.

Alec fell asleep shortly after, looking peaceful and relaxed. Dorian remained awake a little while longer, staring at his lover's face, so soft and young in the candlelight, and struggling with the feelings warring in his chest. There could be no doubt that Alec was his – his eagerness tonight had been all the proof anyone could ask for. And yet, Dorian had a hard time forgetting the shine of admiration in Alec's eyes when he'd spoken of Nate Howe. He hated that look, he wanted to make it disappear, never wanted to see it again. But they had already made plans to meet up with Hawke and his Warden ally in the deserts of the Western Approach, at an ancient ritual tower where the Orlesian Wardens were said to have gathered.

Dorian sighed deeply as he blew out the candle and closed his eyes. _If only we didn't have to go there. I wouldn't mind never seeing Warden Howe again._

 


	21. Chapter 21

It was one of the creepiest sights Dorian had ever beheld. As one, the Warden mages lifted their arms, then lowered them again in a jerky motion like puppets, with Livius Erimond pulling their strings. Their eyes had an eerie red glow, and their skin looked pale and unhealthy. At their feet, their slaughtered comrades lay in pools of blood, their willingness to sacrifice themselves turned into a farce by Corypheus' machinations. Demons and abominations were lapping at the blood with eager tongues, growing stronger by the minute.

Behind Livius, the old ritual tower stood high against the sky, its rusted iron ramparts bearing witness to centuries of neglect. The whole scene was bathed in stark, unforgiving light by the merciless desert sun of the Western Approach, and the howling wind provided fitting background music for the senseless carnage they had just witnessed.

Livius thought it was all a huge joke, of course. Dorian clenched his teeth as he listened to him go on about how the Wardens had been seduced into this by the promise of a demon army. An army that would march into the Deep Roads and kill the Old Gods in time to prevent another Blight. Apparently, Commander Clarel had fallen hook, line, and sinker for this absurdity.

Alec's honest, open face showed his revulsion at Erimond's boasting, and Dorian felt nauseated by his countryman's attitude. More than ever he yearned to prove to Alec that not all citizens of Tevinter were like Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, that provincial upstart, that Venatori _scum_.

"The Blight is not unstoppable nor uncontrollable, Inquisitor." Livius' lips turned up in an ugly sneer. "It is simply a tool."

Dorian could no longer keep quiet. "No, Livius. You're the tool."

Alec's head whipped around to face Dorian, and for a moment he stared at him, his forehead creased in confusion, but then he shrugged and returned his attention to the magister.

At his side, Howe raised his bow in an unmistakable threat. "You have sullied everything I hold dear. I won't stand by and watch while you corrupt more of us Wardens." Howe's voice, always hoarse, was rough with barely suppressed fury.

"But, my dear Warden, no one forced your comrades to join their fates to my master." Livius' oily smile made Dorian want to throw up. "They agreed to all of this of their own free will."

"Enough!" Alec reached for his own bow. "No more Wardens will swell the ranks of Corypheus' army. Not if I can prevent it."

Revon Hawke had remained quiet the whole time. He hadn't batted an eyelid at the sight of the blood magic rituals, which made Dorian wonder how familiar he himself was with summoning demons. At least there could be no doubt about his present loyalties. Hawke fell into an elegant fighting stance with the ease of long practice, and the crackle of power surrounding his staff proved clearly that yes, this was no ordinary wooden stick. Dorian followed suit, and Bull and Cassandra reached for their weapons, too.

But before anyone could attack, Livius raised his hand and did _something_ to Alec’s mark. The magister's own hand began to glow brightly red, while Alec went down with a cry of pain, clutching his hand. Dorian was about to come to his aid, when something Erimond said caught his attention, something about the anchor being a means of accessing the Fade. _So that's why Corypheus was so furious_!

Dorian raised his staff in an attempt to free Alec from whatever strange magic Erimond was working on him, but once again, things moved faster than he had anticipated. Somehow Alec managed to get to his feet and raise his own hand to let the power of the anchor loose upon their foe. The resulting blast knocked Livius clean off his feet.

It would have been a pleasure to finish him off at this point, but of course he was too clever or too cowardly to face them and instead set the Warden mages and their bound demons on them. They were quickly dealt with – Alec and his companions could have handled them on their own, and with Hawke's spells and Howe's arrows to support them, it was almost too easy. But in the meantime, Livius got away.

Howe appeared badly shaken after the battle, pacing to and fro, shaking his head as he took in the scene surrounding them. The old tower had been turned into a slaughterhouse, with dead bodies everywhere, their proud blue Warden armour torn to pieces and soaked with blood.

"How could this happen? How could Commander Clarel allow this madness? When Megan hears of this-" Howe broke off.

Revon Hawke just shrugged. "I thought that's what you lot do. _Prevent a Blight at all costs_."

It was such an obvious attempt at provocation that Dorian was surprised Howe fell for it. "You know damn well that's _not_ what we do!" Tossing aside his bow, he had Hawke by the throat before anyone could intervene. "Just because _you_ have no moral compass-"

"Nate!" Alec placed a calming hand on the Warden's arm. "Stop it. He's just trying to rile you up."

With a disgusted huff, Howe let go of the mage and walked a few steps away, his shoulders shaking with the effort of composing himself. Alec threw a pleading look at Dorian and followed Howe, talking to him in a soft whisper.

Revon had made no move to defend himself, and when Dorian met his gaze, he smiled, a slow, malicious grin without a trace of humour, and winked at him. "The two of them are getting quite cosy with each other, don't you think, Pavus? You'd better keep an eye on your Inquisitor. Howe likes them young and naïve."

Dorian decided not to dignify this comment with a response. Just then, Howe and Alec returned.

"They must have been desperate. They must have thought this was the only way-" Howe was pale as a sheet.

"We have no choice but to fight them, Nate, if they don't see reason." Alec's voice was full of genuine sympathy. "You know that, don't you?"

"I do." Howe raised his head, his expression turning grim. "All right. Judging from where Erimond was headed, I think we'll find them at Adamant Fortress."

"Adamant." Revon Hawke whistled softly through his teeth. "I've always wanted to see it. It's an abandoned Warden fortress, close to the Abyssal Rift," he added by way of explanation. "From what I've heard, the Veil is paper-thin there. Demons and spirits all over the place. Well, this should be interesting. Come on, Howe." He sneered at the Warden's scowling face. "Surely your moral superiority will allow you to put aside your wounded pride and come with me to scout it out."

Howe nodded tersely. "We'll meet you at Griffon Wing Keep, Alec. Soon."

Dorian watched them leave, side by side, but keeping an uneasy distance. He wondered what they were going to talk about once they were alone.

* * *

It was a relief to get back under a shady roof and rest for a while, even if it was only a brief respite from the hot desert sun. They had taken Griffon Wing Keep back from the Venatori a while ago, but it was only now that Alec really came to appreciate having an Inquisition outpost so close to the Abyssal Rift.

Alec hated the desert. The constant low whine of the wind was driving him mad, and there always seemed to be sand _everywhere_. Such a horrible place, nothing but dry ground and rocks for miles on end, the few watering holes infested by spiders and hyenas and worse. What few herbs and other plants they had found had seemed just as unfriendly as their surroundings, rough and spiky and withered.

Dorian didn't seem to mind so much. He'd swapped his usual dashing mage hat for an elegantly wrapped cowl that made him look like a prince of the desert, and he was obviously thriving in the heat. Alec sighed, glancing over at his lover who was lying sprawled all over their bed, only half-dressed and with the inevitable book in his hand.

For all the intimacy they'd shared in the past months, there were still moments when Dorian felt like a stranger to him, when Alec realized how little he really knew of his past life in Tevinter. Which reminded him…

"You knew this Lord Erimond well?" Alec winced a little at the sound of his own voice, harsh and brusque, almost accusatory.

"I beg your pardon?" Dorian raised his head, frowning a little as he put aside his book. "Why would you think that?"

"You called him by his first name. Livius." Only now did Alec fully realize how much that had bothered him. "As if you'd been friends."

"Ah." Dorian sat up, reaching for his shirt. "No. We most certainly never were friends."

"But?" Alec was getting impatient.

With a sigh, Dorian got to his feet and wandered over to the window in search of the wineskin. Alec felt his lips tighten. It bothered him that Dorian tended to seek out liquid comfort whenever he felt stressed or defensive.

"Vyrantium is situated about halfway between Minrathous and Quarinus, where my family comes from." Dorian filled a goblet with dark red wine, making a face when he spilled some on the cool stone floor. "That makes it a convenient resting place if you go by the land route, which I vastly prefer to the sea voyage. It is common practice among magisters to offer each other hospitality, so my father and I stayed at Lord Erimond's house once or twice." He took a deep sip. "Since we are loosely acquainted and more or less social equals, I called him by his first name. That's all there is to it."

Alec felt a little of his tension drain off, but it wouldn't disappear completely. "If you say so."

"Look…" Dorian set down his goblet so abruptly that the tiny Orlesian side table wobbled on its thin legs. "I'm as horrified as you are by what happened out there. Livius… _Erimond_ disgusts me, more than you can ever know. The way he gloated over the Wardens' deaths… the man is primitive, vulgar in the extreme."

"That's what disgusts you? His lack of proper upbringing?" Alec wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"Alec!" Dorian was clearly beginning to get angry himself. "That's not what I said. Anyway…" He made a visible effort to calm down. "What are you going to do next?"

"We have to go after the Wardens." Alec tried to follow his example and remain cool and collected, but it wasn't easy. "Nate thinks-"

"Ah. _Nate_. Yes, he would be the authority on all of this." Dorian tossed his head back, his full lips set in something close to a pout.

"And just what exactly do you mean by that?" The irritation returned in full force, and Alec didn't bother hiding it any more. "Of course he is. He's been a Warden for close to ten years, he's fought broodmothers and emissaries, and slain more darkspawn than he can count. Nate knows all there is to know about being a Warden. The Hero of Ferelden trusts him to handle this, so why in Thedas wouldn't I?"

"Why indeed?" Dorian wouldn't meet his eyes. "Especially considering how much you _admire_ him."

Suddenly, Alec realized what was going on here. "Is _that_ what this is all about then? You're _jealous_?" Dorian didn't reply. "Andraste's tits, Dorian, you can't possibly think I-"

"Oh, yes, I can!" Dorian almost shouted, his face contorted with pain and shame. "I… Oh, forget it!"

"Hey…" Alec instinctively reached out to touch his arm. "Don't. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I swear you're the only one I care about."

Dorian flinched back, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. Alec swallowed hard at the rejection. It hurt, more than he could say.

"Please." He cast about for something else to say, some way to get through to Dorian. "What can I do to convince you?"

"Leave it be, Alec." Dorian was speaking through clenched teeth, and he still hadn't opened his eyes again. "I know I'm being stupid, and I'll get over it. It's just… I don't think I'm up to watching you with him anymore. Maybe it's best if you go to Adamant without me. Hawke said the Veil was thin there. Take Solas. He'll be more helpful than I would when it comes to dealing with spirits and demons."

"That's not true." Alec felt utterly helpless. Every instinct was screaming at him not to leave things like this. "But if it's what you want… Maybe it's for the best. You can stay here at the Keep and wait for us."

"Yes." Dorian turned to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need some time to myself. I'll be there tomorrow to see you off."

* * *

Cassandra's heart was racing with excitement. They had taken fortified places before, small keeps and bandits' fortresses, but this was their first assault on such a grand scale, and it was impressive. Trebuchets and ballistas were raining destruction on the foes hiding behind the walls while the Inquisition's troops tried to tear down the black gates with the help of a huge battering ram. The big doors were creaking on their hinges already, and if she wasn't very much mistaken, they were about to give in.

Only a small part of the Fortress was visible from up here, at the upper ridge of the Abyssal Rift, but it looked forbidding enough, with its dark stone walls and iron fortifications. Even if they managed to get past the gates-

A loud cheer went up as the gate crashed inward and the Inquisition's troops poured through, flooding the Lower Bailey. Immediately, there was the familiar noise of battle, weapons clanging, cries of pain and fury. Cassandra reached for her helmet when the sound of _his_ voice made her swivel around.

"Cassandra! There you are." Cullen was in full armour, having taken his place at the head of the troops, and the sight of him made her throat go dry.

In this moment, he was everything she'd ever admired in a man: a mighty warrior; a consummate general; a true and noble knight. The way he held himself, strong and determined, the expression on his face, all focus and willpower… It was all kinds of exciting to see him like this. "Cullen. You-"

Before she could say more, Alec was at her side. "Commander. It's good to know we have you at our back. Is there anything I need to know?"

"We can hold back the demon army for a while, Inquisitor, but you will have to take a small force inside and try to reach Clarel." Cullen sounded tense, and for a moment Cassandra worried how he would hold up without lyrium. But she chided herself for the thought immediately. His eyes were clear and he actually looked more confident and alive than he had in a long time.

Alec nodded. "Understood. If you can clear a path for us, we will head for the main courtyard."

Cullen nodded. "I would also appreciate it if you could help us out on the battlements a little, once you're inside."

"I'll see what I can do." Alec appeared cheerful and optimistic, but Cassandra noticed that his expression turned forlorn for a heartbeat when he glanced at the space where Dorian used to be and didn't find him there. "Come on, Cassandra."

"Just a moment, Inquisitor." She didn't know whether she would come back from this, didn't know whether she would have a chance to say it later. "Cullen. Please take care. I need to tell you-"

"I know. Don't worry." He smiled at her and took both her hands in his for a moment. "Fight well and come back. For me. For us."

"I will." Turning away was hard, but Cassandra had never shirked a difficult task in all her life.

With quick, sure steps, she followed Alec into the fortress. She didn't look back. But she felt his gaze on her, warm and reassuring, and it gave her strength.


	22. Chapter 22

When the dragon attacked, screeching and flapping its monstrous, leathery wings, it took all of Alec's control not to run like a coward. The memories of Haven returned with a vividness that threatened to unman him: the fiery breath of the beast down his neck; the pain lancing through the mark on his hand; and finally, the horror of being utterly helpless in Corypheus' grasp, his feet dangling as those terrible claws closed around his throat.

There was no way they could vanquish the beast, and no way they could ever hope to face down its master. The Inquisition was doomed, their struggle at an end, and he would die today. He would never see Dorian again. It was hopeless.

At his side, Nate cried out in shock, but he firmly stood his ground. Alec's admiration for his courage and tenacity grew even further. Nate's face had turned grimmer and grimmer as they had fought their way through the fortress, taking down the possessed mages one by one with their arrows. It had to be torture for him to fight his fellow Wardens, those who should be standing with him against the darkspawn. _So many dead. Such a terrible, terrible waste._

And now that they had finally found Clarel and Erimond, now that they had managed to talk some sense into the Orlesian Warden Commander, now that she had turned against the magister and was ready to fight at their side – were all their efforts to be thwarted by this monster?

Already, the demons were attacking them from all sides, and they were quickly caught up in the struggle. From the corner of his eyes, Alec saw Clarel racing along the battlements in hot pursuit of Erimond who, once again, had chosen to run.

"We need to follow her." Nate had grabbed his arm. "She needs help."

Alec nodded and signalled for the others to follow them. The demons had been beaten back for the time being, but both Cassandra and Bull looked battered, limping, exhausted and weak. He himself had been in pain ever since a shade had torn a deep gash into his left thigh, and Solas' mana reserves were all but drained. They badly needed to rest and regroup, but they had to follow Clarel. _Clarel and the dragon_. Once again, every fibre in his body was screaming at him to run.

"Well, Inquisitor. Ready to face the lizard?" Revon Hawke was leaning on his staff, _grinning_ at him, for Andraste's sake, as if he was talking about a stroll along the avenues of Val Royeaux.

He, too, was bleeding from a wound on his bare arm, but even as Alec opened his mouth to speak, he lazily flicked his fingers toward one of the Warden mages who lay dying on the ground. The man's body arched up in silent agony and moments later, the last vestiges of life were gone from him. Hawke's wound had disappeared and he looked fresh and rested again.

Alec felt the bile rise in his mouth, but Hawke was still smiling that infuriating smile of his. "I am game if you are, Inquisitor. Or are you afraid? Of course, not everyone has the balls to stand up to a high dragon."

Hawke had slain at least one dragon himself, Alec recalled, if Varric's stories were to be believed. Either way, he wasn't going to be shown up by Revon Hawke, of all people. Without wasting his breath on words, he turned and made for the battlements.

When they arrived on the scene, Erimond was down on the ground, begging for his life. Clarel was about to finish him off when the dragon attacked her. The swipe of its tail knocked them all off their feet, and Alec screamed in pain and confusion as the back of his head hit the flagstones.

The beast had Clarel between his jaws, and they heard the sickening crunch of bones. And still she was fighting back, sparks flying from her staff as she summoned the last of her power to free herself from its maw. Alec couldn't help but admire the woman. For all her lack of judgement, she had shown incredible courage.

He was desperate to help her, desperate to do _something_ , but his legs wouldn't obey him, and his companions looked dazed and disoriented. The only one on his feet was Revon Hawke, and he… He was just _standing_ there, protected by a barrier he had quickly thrown up, watching with a sardonic smile, as the dragon crouched above Clarel's prone body, _watching_ , making no move to help her.

"Blight it, Hawke, do something!" Nate's hoarse voice echoed his thoughts.

But Hawke just shrugged. "She's as good as dead anyway. I'm not wasting my magic on her."

Just then, Clarel aimed one last, desperate spell at the dragon and everything turned into utter chaos. The beast screamed, thrashing in pain and fear, and the floor below them crumbled under its claws. And suddenly they were sliding downward, toward the abyss, unstoppably, inexorably. Desperately Alec tried to find something to hold on to, but in vain. Already they were falling, hurtling down into the void. The last thing Alec could recall before the world went dark was a flash of green from the mark on his hand. Then there was only silence.

When he opened his eyes again, his first thought was that he had died. Surely, they all had to be dead. No one could survive such a fall, no one could hope to come back from this. And yet, if this was the afterlife, it was unlike anything he'd ever imagined.

Getting to his feet, he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but he didn't even have the words to describe it. A sickly green light permeated the landscape around him. And what a landscape it was! Parts of it looked real enough, if not particularly pleasant; rocks and puddles and pathways. But at the same time, everything was…. wrong, in so many ways. Stones floating in the air, pieces of furniture and other objects distributed all over the place without any attempt at logic, raw lyrium veins emerging from the ground…

A noise behind him made him twirl around, and he almost sobbed in relief when he saw that they were all there. Cassandra, Bull, and Nate, all of them looking utterly confused and disoriented.

"Inquisitor." Solas was there, too. He inclined his head in a solemn greeting. "It seems we have travelled physically into the Fade. You have taken us through the Veil."

"The Fade? How is that even possible? And I haven't-" Alec frowned, but then he saw somebody else emerge from the shadows next to Solas, and he was seized by a wild fury that drove all other considerations from his mind. " _Hawke_! What did you think you were doing there?" He lunged toward the man, his hands balled into fists. "Clarel could be alive, if you hadn't-"

This time, it was Nate who stopped him, with a firm grip around his wrist. "Alec!" He shook his head in warning. "That's not Hawke."

"What do you mean?" Alec shook his head. "Of course it's him. He-"

And then he _saw_. It was Revon Hawke's body all right, and his face with its characteristic tattoos. But the smirk it normally wore had disappeared, and his eyes had turned a clear, icy blue. Not just the pupils, _all_ of his eyes. And the same blue was coming through _cracks_ in his skin, as if something inside him was about to burst free. A deep, sonorous voice emerged from his mouth, its echo reverberating from the rocks around them in a way that was more than just a little creepy.

"I had not thought to return in such a way." The creature's lips turned up slightly. "It is good to feel the breath of the Fade again."

Solas opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could say a word, Nate stepped in. "Justice?" His voice was shaky, and he sounded tentative, almost scared.

"Nathaniel, my old friend." The _thing_ extended a hand toward him. "I have missed you. You and the other Wardens. I trust the Commander is well?"

Once again, Alec felt a strong urge to run. "Who… _what_ is he, Nate?"

"Meet Justice." Nate was clearly struggling, too. "He's… a spirit. I knew him before he joined with Revon Hawke. I-"

"Justice?" Solas raised an eyebrow. "That's what he may have been, long ago. But he's been corrupted by his association with the mortal." The strange blue eyes glared at him, but he went on regardless. "You're no longer a pure idea, no longer an innocent creature of the Fade. But, maybe you can go back to what you once were, with a little help."

"I don't need your help." There was more than just a hint of Hawke's arrogance in the spirit's tone.

"Look, this is all very interesting." Alec swallowed hard. "But we need to get out of here. We need to get back."

They could agree on that much, and together they set out to find a way out. Later, Alec would have a hard time describing his experiences in that realm of dreams and nightmares. They encountered more demons, and a spirit who claimed to be the murdered Divine Justinia. She helped him regain his memories of what had happened at the Conclave, though if he was honest he'd have preferred to let them remain buried.

Solas was a big help all through this strange journey, but the longer they travelled, the more desperately Alec missed Dorian. He _needed_ him, needed _someone_ to touch him, to reassure him that he was alive. Nate spent most of the time at Justice's side, talking to him in a low voice. And Cassandra and Bull were just as quiet and subdued as Alec felt, their faces pale and drawn.

Finally, the spirit led them to another tear in the Veil. This was their way home, their only chance, but it was guarded by a demon that made all the others they had faced look harmless. It was a monstrosity, huge and repulsive, a fear demon that had grown fat on the people's dread of darkspawn and the Blight. _Nightmare_ the self-proclaimed spirit of Justinia had called it, and it was a fitting title. Alec was sure he would never forget the horror its sight inspired.

They fought it, they threw everything they had at it, over and over, but it kept reforming and regenerating. In the end, they all realized there was only one thing they could do.

"One of us needs stay behind and distract it, while the others escape. It's the only way." Nate voiced what they were all thinking. "I will do it. After all that's happened at Adamant, it's my duty as a Warden to atone for Clarel's mistakes."

"No." Justice's hollow voice stopped him in his tracks. "This is my home, this is where I am strongest. I am the only one who stands a chance of survival against this foe. Let me do this for you, old friend."

He looked at Nate almost tenderly, but then his face contorted, and after a brief struggle, his eyes turned dark. Without being told, Alec knew that Hawke was back in charge.

"Well, Inquisitor." His voice was back to normal, too. "Who shall it be? Me or the Warden?" He laughed sardonically. "It's not really a question, is it?"

"No. It's not." And it wasn't. Justice was right. Staying behind would mean certain death for Nate, while Hawke had at least a tiny chance of getting out of here alive on his own. And besides, there were the scenes he had witnessed at Adamant, Hawke's spells, his utter disregard for human life… Alec raised his voice. "We shall leave it to you, Hawke. Nate is coming with us."

Hawke simply nodded, but to Alec's surprise, Nate shook his head, his face stubborn. "No, Revon. I can't let that happen. What am I supposed to tell Carver? That I let his brother die?"

Revon paused for a moment, considering, but then he laughed softly. "You mean far more to him than I ever did, Howe. You know that as well as I do. Of course, it probably helped that you fucked what little brains he had straight out of his head." He shook himself. "Take care of my little brother for me. He needs it."

His eyes turned blue again, and a genuine, warm smile completely changed his features. Raising his staff, he turned and, without looking back at them, walked toward the demon.

* * *

"Commander! Where are they? What happened to them?" Dorian sounded frantic, and Cullen couldn't blame him.

The mage looked dishevelled, as if he'd hastily thrown on some robes and hurried here, foregoing his usual dressing and grooming routine. Which was probably exactly what had happened. Behind him, the dracolisk he'd picked as his steed was panting heavily, its eyes wide with exhaustion. Dorian must have raced the poor thing without mercy all the way from Griffon Wing Keep to the besiegers' camp and it looked pitiful. Not that Cullen felt particularly sympathetic toward those weird creatures as a rule.

It had been several hours since Alec and his companions had disappeared. Several hours since the rift had opened where they had been only moments before. Almost as long since the dragon had fled, leaving behind an unconscious Lord Erimond and a few straggling demons and Wardens who had quickly surrendered.

Adamant Fortress lay in darkness. Even the very air had grown still. Occasionally, the sky lit up in vibrant colours, filled with glowing auroras that disappeared as quickly as they came. It was an eerie sight, and Cullen was glad that he was no longer alone with his fears.

"We don't know." He placed a calming hand on Dorian's shoulder. "But they may still be alive. We haven't found their bodies and-"

"Well, how would you, if they've gone down into the abyss?" Dorian was shaking badly, and his eyes were so full of pain that Cullen had to avert his gaze.

"I don't think they have." He did his best to sound reassuring. "We know that Alec opened a rift when he fell. If they went through, they may be safe."

"Safe?" Dorian's laugh was hollow. "Wherever they went, it's probably not _safe_ , Commander, and you know that as well as I do."

Cullen didn't reply. He couldn't allow himself to despair, not yet. Not if there was even the tiniest chance that they would return, that Cassandra would come back to him. She had to. They had to. Everything else was unbearable.

"Come on," he finally said, leading Dorian over to the fire the men had built in the courtyard. "We might as well wait together."

* * *

In a way, it was almost like after Haven. The waiting, the ache in his heart, the attempts to distract himself from imagining what had happened to Alec. Once again, there was nothing he could do, no way to help the man he loved. Once again, he felt helpless and all but useless.

And yet, Dorian mused, things couldn't have been more different. This time, he was among friends. He was no longer the outcast, the dreaded magister from Tevinter, the stranger in their midst. As soon as he'd sat down at the fire, Harding had been there, offering him a warm blanket and a mug of steaming tea. She hadn't said a word, but she'd rested her small hand on his shoulder for a moment, and it had meant the world to him.

The rift was still there, flaring green, guarded by Inquisition troops who dealt efficiently with the occasional demon or shade emerging from it. Others were busy cleaning up the courtyard, preparing the corpses for cremation and looting whatever useful items could be gathered from their enemies' bodies. Everyone seemed to have something to do, some important task or other. Maybe he should have helped, too. But he felt too numb to spur himself into action.

Cullen had taken a seat right next to him after exchanging his heavy armour for comfortable leathers. He looked so Fereldan in them that Dorian had to bite his tongue to stifle a sarcastic comment. He didn't want to offend Cullen; he genuinely appreciated the Commander's company during his endless vigil. Cullen didn't talk much, just kept the fire going and stared into the flames, sighing occasionally. Cassandra's absence had to be hard on him, too, yet he didn't mention her name even once.

Dorian thought he knew why. He himself was filled by a superstitious fear whenever someone mentioned Alec, and he scrupulously avoided saying his name aloud. It was as if by their silence they could deny what had happened, pretend they weren't worried sick about the people they cared about so much.

It was almost morning when a commotion at the back of the courtyard tore him from the fitful slumber he'd fallen into. Cullen was on his feet already, and Dorian joined him, his heart beating wildly as he tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening over there.

And then he heard Harding's voice, bright and joyful, and he almost dropped to his knees with relief. "They're back. They're alive. Thank the Maker!"

Only moments later, Dorian was in Alec's arms, not caring who saw them, laughing and crying at the same time as he held him close. "You're back. You've come back." He was babbling and sobbing, half incoherent, and Alec was murmuring soothing words in his ears, gently rubbing his back.

Alec had returned, and nothing else mattered. All was right with the world again. _Amatus. My love._


	23. Chapter 23

"So, he's gone. It figures." Varric sighed deeply.

Alec had dreaded telling him about what had happened in the Fade. He knew how fiercely loyal the dwarf was, ever since he'd witnessed him standing up to Cassandra when she'd accused him of withholding information about Revon Hawke's whereabouts. Varric had done his best to protect his friend all this time, and now Alec had to tell him that it had all been in vain.

Yet, Varric took it surprisingly well. "Justice offered to stay behind, you said." He grimaced. "Of course it was Justice. Altruism wasn't Revon's strongest suit."

"I don't know." Alec frowned. "He… he didn't seem to mind, really. It was almost as if he enjoyed the challenge."

Varric stared at him. "Well. Maybe he had finally gone completely mad." He sighed. "Time to write some letters. Ah, this is going to be hard on Daisy. Though, perhaps, all things considered, it's for the best. Anyway, thank you, Inquisitor. I know you did all you could." He was gone before Alec could ask further questions.

Behind him, Dorian shuddered violently. "You'll forgive me if I don't grieve for Hawke. I'm grateful for what he did for you, but honestly, it's a relief that he's gone." There was no venom in his voice, just a deep weariness. "I never thought I'd say that, but he scared me."

Alec nodded slowly. "You don't know the half of it." Quickly, he related what he'd observed before they’d gone through the rift: the way Hawke had sucked the lifeblood from his defeated enemies; his utter disregard for human life; his icy disdain in the face of Clarel's heroism.

Dorian's eyes narrowed. "I won't pretend I've never seen the like before." A shadow crossed his fine features, and Alec wondered what memory had caused it. "But I have to confess I never would have expected such ruthlessness from someone born and bred in the South. Your mages are taught to despise blood magic practically from their first breath."

"Hawke was an apostate all his life," Alec reminded him. "Maybe he felt that the rules made for Circle mages didn't apply to him."

Dorian snorted. "From what little we saw of him, he didn't think _any_ rules applied to him. I don't think you can blame it on him being an apostate."

"I wasn't going to." Alec raised a hand to touch Dorian's cheek. "Let's not talk about him anymore. I just want to-" He broke off, unsure how to say it.

There was so much he wanted. To hold Dorian, to tell him he loved him, to reassure both of them that their stupid quarrel was a thing of the past. To make him forget his jealousy, to make him see how completely and utterly unfounded it was. To kiss him and touch him and make love to him until he was too sated to even beg for more. He wanted all this, and more, and there was no way that words would ever be enough to convey it.

" _Amatus_." Taking his hand, Dorian pressed a fierce kiss on his palm. "I still can't believe that you went physically into the Fade _and_ returned to tell the tale. It's nothing short of a miracle, and I am so very grateful to have you back in one piece."

Alec felt the touch of his lips all through his body, battered and exhausted as he was. "It was a nightmare. Worse than a nightmare, and I just wish-" He swallowed. "I wish you'd been there with me. It would have been easier."

Dorian shook his head. "No. I've met too many idiots who dreamed of following in the seven magisters' footsteps. I'm sorry that I wasn't at your side, but I've always prided myself on being better than that. As a matter of fact…" His eyes took on an excited gleam. "I've been thinking, if we can find out who Corypheus _really_ was-"

The pain in Alec's leg wound, all but forgotten for the past few hours, thanks to some strange spell Justice had cast on entering the Fade, suddenly flared up again and his leg nearly gave out under him.

Dorian caught him with one hand, but his brow was creased with worry. "We need to get you home. You need to rest."

_Yes. Home._ Alec nodded wearily. He couldn't wait to be back at Skyhold.

* * *

Cullen was exhausted. There had been little time to welcome Cassandra back, and none at all for spending time with her since. All his attention had been taken up with cleaning up the mess left behind by the Venatori and the corrupted Wardens in Adamant.

The fortress had been razed to the ground, with a little help from the Bull's Chargers, and the few remaining Wardens were awaiting Alec's decision on whether they would be allowed to stay as allies of the Inquisition. Cullen had strongly advised against it. The sooner they disappeared from Orlais, the better for everyone involved. Let them go back to Weisshaupt and explain their actions to the leaders of their Order. Even Nathaniel Howe had agreed that there was no way they could just go on as before after a disaster of such proportions. But then of course, the Fereldan Wardens had always had mixed feelings toward their Orlesian counterparts.

Howe was there when Alec finally called them all to the Great Hall to deliver the Inquisition's judgment against the guilty parties, along with the surviving Orlesian wardens. And for once, Dorian was present, too, standing quietly next to the bulky Fereldan throne with its grim carvings of dragons and snarling mabari. Alec looked tense and uncomfortable, still not entirely at ease in the role of judge. Everyone was waiting with bated breath for Erimond to appear and answer for his crimes.

But before he was brought in, the Inquisition soldiers led another agent of Corypheus before Alec's seat.

"Crassius Servis, your Worship." Josephine's face was carefully neutral. "An apostate and a smuggler, responsible for unleashing hordes of darkspawn on the Western Approach. He was also overseeing several digging operations that would have given Corypheus access to powerful and dangerous artefacts, and-"

Alec waved off her explanations. The incident was fresh in everyone's minds. The man in question was a mage from Tevinter, attractive, well-spoken, and confident. Cullen watched in disgust as Servis claimed to have no loyalty to Corypheus and offered his services to the Inquisition. Alec seemed almost amused by him at first.

But then Servis made a fatal mistake. Glancing up at Alec from under his long, silky lashes, he allowed himself a conspiratorial smile. "My dear Inquisitor. You've proven already that you don't have a problem with having an apostate mage from Tevinter at your side." He tilted his head suggestively toward Dorian. "Tell me… What exactly would I have to do to convince you that I'm ready to serve in _any_ possible capacity?"

"How dare you!" Alec's face darkened immediately. "Put this _scum_ in the deepest, darkest hole we can find. We don't need his kind in the Inquisition."

Cullen nodded approvingly, even if he wasn't sure Alec's decision was based on the right reasons. No matter. Servis deserved his fate, and it was good to see the Inquisitor take charge. Now, as for Lord Erimond…

* * *

Dorian was watching in impotent fury as Servis was led off toward the dungeons. _This! This is exactly what I predicted would happen if he kept me at his side!_ He was glad Alec had shut the man's appeal down so swiftly and decisively, but he still dreaded everyone else's reactions. And yet, when he met Cullen's eyes, he found nothing but sincere sympathy there. Which was hard enough to bear, but compared to the contempt he'd feared to see…

When Erimond was dragged in, Dorian hardly recognized his former acquaintance. The magister was practically foaming at the mouth, protesting his devotion to Corypheus and his readiness to die for his master. Yet, Alec shook his head, exchanging a glance with Nathaniel Howe.

"We won't dirty our hands by executing you, Lord Erimond." His voice was icy-cold. "You have done great harm to the Grey Wardens, and they are the ones who shall decide your fate. However…" He motioned for the senior Orlesian Warden, a weary-looking woman of about forty, to come forward. "There can be no doubt that the Wardens, too, committed terrible errors. I therefore declare your Order exiled from Orlesian territory. You will return to Weisshaupt and report to the First Warden who will decide what's to be done about you. And you will take Erimond with you, guarded by a contingent of Inquisition soldiers who will make sure he arrives safely. "

_And they'll also ensure that you don't fall to corruption again. Clever._ Dorian took a deep breath. He was a little surprised to see Howe nod in affirmation. Clearly, he and Alec had discussed this before the judgment. Either way, their involvement with the Grey Wardens seemed to be coming to an end and Dorian was sincerely glad about it.

Howe and Alec said their good-byes the next day, down at the archery range after one last training session together. Dorian kept well back as they embraced, both of them looking a little wistful.

"Good-bye, Nate. I wish you a safe journey." Alec stepped back with a sigh. "And thank you for taking Erimond off my hands."

Howe nodded. "I'll see him safely off to Weisshaupt, and then I'll return home. I guess I ought to take him all the way there, but to be honest, I can't wait to get back to the Keep. And Megan will want to hear about all of this as soon as possible." A strange mixture of emotions passed over his gaunt face: anger and sorrow, but at the same time tenderness and intense longing.

Alec smiled, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. "You miss her."

"I do. Her and Carver." Howe smiled back. "Thank you, Alec. For making me come back with you from the Fade. Even if-" He rubbed his stubbly chin, looking weary again. "I still feel bad about leaving Revon behind there."

"I don't know." Alec shrugged. "Part of me pities the demon, you know." It was a lame attempt at humour, and he quickly grew serious again. "But honestly, he may still be alive, for all we know. Or his death may have freed the spirit of justice and helped it return to the Fade. We'll never know for sure, I guess."

"No, I guess we won't." Howe nodded earnestly. "Still, when all this is over, I hope you will come and visit us at Vigil's Keep. I think Megan would love to meet you." Howe's gesture included Dorian. "You, too, of course."

Dorian appreciated the thought, but it was still a massive relief when Howe finally was gone. He could hardly wait until he and Alec were alone in their room again.

Alec was in a good mood that evening, relaxed and happy. He kicked off his boots with every sign of relief, and made himself comfortable on the large bed. "Nate seemed really eager to get home. He's been talking about nothing but Megan and Carver ever since we returned from Adamant."

"Hmmm." Dorian made a non-committal noise. He understood the unspoken message well enough. _See? No reason to be jealous. Nate's heart is taken up elsewhere._ He wasn't going to give Alec the satisfaction of admitting that he'd been stupid, though.

Alec laughed softly at his stubbornness. "You know, I do wonder what that's like, sharing your lover in such a manner. From what Nate said, the three of them have been together for years."

"Have they?" Dorian leaned casually against the bedpost, not bothering to hide his scepticism. "I've never heard of such an arrangement lasting for any longer stretch of time. Of course there are plenty of people who try it once or twice, as an extra thrill, but really, it seems more trouble than it's worth."

"I don't know. It sounds kind of exciting, doesn't it? A bit stressful maybe, but hey, with the right woman… And the right man, of course." Alec stretched lasciviously, grinning at the appalled expression on Dorian's face. "Aw, come on. You know I'm not nearly as put off by pretty girls as you are. Let me dream a little."

"Do you…" Dorian felt a sudden pang of apprehension. "Do you miss it? Being with a woman?"

"Not particularly. Why?" Dorian's anxiety must have shown on his face, because Alec immediately grew serious. "Are you worried I'd cheat on you because of _that_?"

He sighed and gestured for Dorian to join him on the bed, pulling him between his outstretched legs. "Look, that's not how it works. Let me explain." Embracing Dorian loosely from behind, he leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. "Given the choice, I tend to prefer men, as you well know. But, I like women well enough. They feel good. They smell good. Is there the occasional woman I desire? Yes. I won't deny that. But…" Dorian couldn't see his face, but he sounded utterly sincere. "I wouldn't dream of acting upon it. I'm with you, Dorian, and I've got all I need. I love you. Do you honestly think I'd risk losing you just for a quick fuck?"

Dorian flinched at the sudden crudeness, but he knew Alec well enough by now to realize it had been deliberate, a way to underscore the raw honesty of his statement.

"No. I'm sorry." He took hold of Alec's hand, pressing it hard. "It's just… difficult to accept sometimes that you don't feel exactly like I do."

"Yeah, well. People are different. Besides, no one ever tried to force _me_ into a life I didn't want." Alec's voice was warm and gentle. "What was she like? The girl your parents wanted you to marry. You've never even mentioned her name."

"Livia Herathinos." Dorian shrugged. "Beautiful. A perfect body; gorgeous dark eyes; hair like a raven's wing. Bright, too, with a wicked tongue and a sharp wit. Amazingly talented, brimming with magical power. She deserved better than me."

Alec made a doubtful, clucking noise.

"It's true," Dorian protested. "If we'd gotten married, we'd have spent our time trading insults at parties and avoiding each other's company in private. It would have been a spectacularly unhappy affair."

"Well I, for one, am glad you didn't marry her." Alec kept his tone light, but his arms tightened around Dorian. He'd almost pulled him into his lap now, and he was slowly grinding against his back.

"Mmhmm. _Really_ glad, from the feel of it." Dorian was glad for a chance to change the topic.

He managed to twist around far enough that they were stomach to stomach, propping himself up a little to take some of his weight off Alec's body. But Alec wouldn't have it, and pulled him down, offering his mouth in a long, sweet kiss. When he came up for breath again, Dorian was shivering with sudden desire, moaning at the feel of Alec's warm body under his.

"Make love to me. Make me all yours." Alec's eyes were shining with need and affection. "Please, Dorian."

"Anything you want, _amatus_." He lost himself in those eyes, finally free from the fear of losing his love. "Anything you want."


	24. Chapter 24

It was the sort of dream you never want to wake from and Alec was smiling in his sleep.

_The girl was beautiful, and she was soft and yielding in his arms, her smooth, creamy skin flushed with desire, her red-gold hair clinging to her damp forehead, her breath coming in quick, hard gasps as he caressed her. And right behind him, there was Dorian, all hard planes and taut muscle, firm and insistent against his back, his presence both familiar and exciting._

_Alec moaned as he pushed deep inside her, because it felt so good, and at the same time, Dorian's fingers were working their magic in him, slowly opening him up. He was caught between them, moving slowly, and it was so hot, so wonderful, and any moment now Dorian would-_

"Alec?"

With jarring suddenness, the dream was gone, and the first rays of sun sneaking in past the heavy curtains were tickling his nose. Alec groaned in frustration, squeezing his eyes firmly shut. He wanted to go back to his dream, wanted to recapture that amazing feeling, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up. Again, he whined, but before he could start properly complaining, Dorian's long, dexterous fingers wrapped themselves firmly around his rock-hard cock.

"Shhhh." Dorian sounded distinctly amused. "Let me help you with this."

Spooning Alec from behind, he breathed a kiss on his neck and slowly ran his hand up and down his aching length. Alec pressed himself into his grip with a feverish gasp, only too happy to let Dorian take care of him. He could feel Dorian's own arousal against his back, and his lover's skin on his, so soft and warm, all the way from head to toe.

Moaning, he rubbed himself against Dorian's body, relishing the soft rhythm of his strokes, so perfectly in tune with what he needed and wanted. Dorian's breath was warm and sweet against his cheek, and he smelled so good, of books and lyrium and sex. There was no better scent in all the world.

"Yes. Don't stop." He was still only half-awake, still pleasantly dazed, but he knew he didn't want this to end, knew he needed more. "Please, Dorian."

"Alec…" There was the faintest tremor in Dorian's voice.

Keeping up his gentle strokes, he worked his other hand, slick with oil, between Alec's legs from behind, his movements slow and languorous, so as not to disturb the mood.

And yet, his touch made Alec shudder with sudden need, made him grind back urgently into his fingers. "Dorian. Oh Maker, yes."

Dorian chuckled softly against his back. "So eager. Must have been a good dream."

Alec felt the tiniest flash of guilt, but it was impossible to hold on to it. Not with Dorian's long fingers spreading him open, not when all he could think of was how he needed _more_ , how he craved his lover's touch, his warmth, his cock.

"Please." Again, he pushed back, begging with his whole body for more, and Dorian finally relented.

"Always _so_ impatient." But he was breathless, too, as he lifted Alec's leg a little, just enough to allow him better access, and slowly slid inside him.

"Sweet Maker, Dorian!" Alec arched his back, twisting around so he could meet Dorian's lips in a long, hungry kiss. "You're killing me."

"Want me to stop?" Dorian punctuated his question with a quick, shallow thrust that made Alec see stars.

"No! Don't you dare-" A second thrust effectively cut off what he'd been meaning to say, because there were no words, there simply could be no words to express what Dorian was doing to him.

There was just heat and sweat, their bodies joined as closely as they could be, with Dorian's hand on his chest holding him securely in place as sweet, sweet pleasure raced through his veins, over and over. Dorian didn't have much room to move in this position, but their closeness more than made up for that. Everything was so intense, so tight, so wonderful, and then Dorian's grip on his cock tightened and Alec came with a hoarse gasp, spilling all over the pristine white linens, his muscles straining hard against his lover's hold.

Dorian laughed giddily, but he was panting with need at the same time, and it took him only a few more quick thrusts to finish as well, shuddering against Alec's back. " _Amatus_. You're so incredibly perfect."

They rested a little longer, clinging tightly to each other, but finally Alec took hold of Dorian's arm and gently freed himself. "Time to get up." He winced a little at the sight of the mess they'd made. _Ah, well. The servants will have something to talk about, at least._

"Such a pity you have work to do." Dorian sighed deeply. "You know, surely a little bit of Northern decadence wouldn't be such a bad thing." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Just occasionally, a day spent in bed, with a willing lover, ignoring all your responsibilities…"

Alec smiled, but really, he had to get up. The sun was already far too high up in the clear blue mountain sky. "What are your plans for today?" Wandering over to the little cabinet that housed his washstand, he reached for soap and a towel.

"I think I'll spend the morning in the library, see if I can find out more about Corypheus' past." Dorian yawned. "If we can prove that he's just another ambitious magister, and not a _God_ …" He made a face. "Maybe we can convince some of the Venatori to leave his side. At the very least it's going to be an embarrassment for his family."

"If they're still around." Alec nodded thoughtfully. "Why not? It's certainly worth a try. Let me know if you need any help."

"I will." Dorian's smile was genuine as he, too, got to his feet and joined Alec. "What about you?"

"Administrative stuff, for most of the day." Alec sighed. "And then Varric has a surprise planned, he said. No idea what, but he seemed excited about it. Honestly, I'm just glad he's not blaming me for what happened to Hawke."

"Why would he?" Dorian frowned. "It was hardly your fault that you got stuck in the Fade. Anyway…" Breathing a last, quick kiss on Alec's bare shoulder, he reached for his robes. "I'm curious to see what he's come up with. Should be interesting."

* * *

Dorian had just about managed to stop laughing by the time they reached their quarters, but one look at Alec's face was enough to set him off again. "I don't believe it! That look on Cullen's face! And Josephine…" Gasping for air, he quoted the ambassador, doing a fair imitation of her accent. " _Never bet against an Antivan, Commander_."

Alec chuckled softly. "Yeah, that was priceless. I really need to make a point of thanking Varric for this evening. Playing Wicked Grace together was a stroke of genius. I never thought I'd see Cullen loosen up like that. When he started wagering his clothes, I couldn't believe my ears." With a yawn, he wandered over to the bed, kicking off his boots on the way. "Anyway. It was nice to see a lighter side of him for once. He's far too serious as a rule."

"Mmmhmm." Dorian walked over to him and helped him with the complicated little buttons on his shirt collar. "Not to mention the fact that it was quite a treat to see our dear Commander in such a gorgeous state of undress. Who'd have thought there was such an amazing body under that mangy fur coat? Seems a shame to hide it all, really. He's built like those statues we have back home. No. Better." He licked his lips, savouring the memory.

Alec leaned into his embrace with a pleased sigh. "Careful, now, or I might get jealous."

"No need." Dorian ran a teasing hand down Alec's chest, tracing every muscle on the way. "You of all people have no reason to fear the competition, _amatus_. Besides, at the end of the day, Cullen is still a Templar, and I'm still a mage, and that tends to… put a damper on things."

"Yeah. Still, there are exceptions." Alec reached for the laces of his pants, grinning when Dorian playfully swatted his hand aside and got to work on them himself. "And not always one-sided either. I had this great-aunt who was a mage in the Circle at Ostwick and-"

"There's magic in your family?" That little tidbit was enough to distract Dorian momentarily from his plans to get Alec naked. "You never said."

"Dorian!" Rolling his eyes, Alec caught his wrist and pulled his hand back to where it had been, clearly unhappy with the interruption. "I'm related to most of the Free Marches and half of Ferelden, too. My extended family is so big there's bound to be _someone_ with magical talent. It doesn't mean a thing. Anyway…" The pants had come off and Dorian got to work on Alec's smalls, enjoying the way his breathing sped up. "Auntie Lynn used to come for visits sometimes, and she was always accompanied by the same Templar. A big, strapping guy with a kind face. No one ever said a thing, but they shared a room every time they were at our house, and I doubt it was so he could keep an eye on her. They were quite sweet together, actually. Like an old married couple."

"Yeah, well." Dorian had him naked now, and he was rapidly losing interest in their conversation. "Love blooms in the most unexpected places, isn't that what they say? And speaking of love…" Pulling Alec closer, he kissed him hard. "Come to bed now, _amatus_. I've got plans."

* * *

Cullen had done his best to avoid Cassandra for a few days, but eventually she found him, up in the Guard Tower where he had hidden away, pretending to check on the progress of the renovations Alec had commissioned.

"Cullen. Here you are." Cassandra opened the door wide, allowing the sun to flood the room with light.

Quickly, Cullen turned away, feigning a sudden interest in the plasterwork on the wall.

Cassandra didn't seem to notice his discomfort. "I've been looking for you all over Skyhold. Where have you been? I haven't seen you since our card game."

He felt a fierce blush rise to his cheeks, and he still couldn't bring himself to look at her. "Maker, don't remind me. I'm so sorry you had to see-"

"Cullen!" To his surprise, she sounded… _amused_? "It's fine. I really saw nothing I didn't like. Maybe…" There was the briefest moment of hesitation before she continued. "Maybe we should play cards more often."

For a moment Cullen held his breath, unsure of how to react. But when he slowly turned and looked at her, she was smiling. He was instantly mesmerized by the way her lips curved upward, those beautiful lips that he'd been wanting to kiss for such a long time, and suddenly the urge became too strong to ignore. Slowly, giving her every possible chance to withdraw, he took a step toward her and raised his hand to cup her cheek, shivering when he felt the smooth warm skin. Cassandra didn't move, but her smile widened, almost imperceptibly, and her eyes, oh Maker, the expression in her eyes… Before he could lose heart again, he closed the distance between them and brushed his lips against hers.

There were no fireworks, no explosions, no stars falling from the sky. No birds singing, no scent of flowers wafting in the air, like in the poems. There was just Cassandra, her lips trembling under his, her scent surrounding him, her own, wonderful scent, fresh and tart, and he knew he never wanted the moment to end, knew that if he died on the spot he'd at least have had this.

Pulling back, he realized he was shaking all over, suddenly horribly afraid he'd misjudged the situation and ruined the moment. "Cassandra. Please forgive me."

She shook her head impatiently, making that snorting noise that always made him smile. "There's nothing to forgive, Cullen, except that you kept me waiting so long."

Before he could fully process her words, her hand was in his hair, and she was pulling him back in, fiercely, irresistibly. Once again, he tasted her, and then her lips opened, just the tiniest bit. He felt her trace his scar with her tongue, slowly and carefully, and he lost it. Groaning deep in his throat, he embraced her fully, pulled her tightly to his body, as tightly as their armour would allow. And he kissed her, kissed her the way he'd always wanted to, plundering her mouth as thoroughly as he'd imagined, in those wild fevers dreams at night when his need had become too great for decency. And she, _oh sweet Andraste_ , she was kissing him back just as eagerly, and he was one step away from dragging her off to his lair like a barbarian when he heard the rattle of the door's hinge behind him.

"Commander Cullen? You said to inform you when- Oh, I'm so sorry." Jim. Of course it was Jim.

Without quite knowing what he was doing, Cullen swivelled around on his heels, raising himself to his full height and bellowing at the lad in his best training yard voice. "Later. In my office."

"Of course, sir, apologies, sir…" Still babbling, Jim disappeared.

When Cullen turned back to Cassandra, she was regarding him with an odd expression on her face, something between pensive and concerned, and he suddenly realized what he was doing. He almost apologized again, but before he could, she raised her hand and stroked his cheek in a gesture of pure tenderness that robbed him completely of the ability to speak.

"Cullen. It's all right." There was a husky undertone to her voice that made him tremble. "We will continue this some other time." A faint blush crept over her cheeks. "At a more suitable venue."

"Cassandra." He'd found his voice again, but he, too, sounded rough, and it was a struggle to come up with anything more articulate than just repeating her name, over and over. "Yes."

She smiled, and it took all his control not to grab her and claim her mouth again. "It may be a while. I came to say goodbye, actually. Alec wants to take us dragon hunting. Bull is coming, too."

"Dragon hunting!" For a moment, an ice-cold fear gripped him, but he forced himself to be calm. "Please be careful."

"Of course." One last, sweet smile, and she was turning to go. "Good bye."

"Good bye, Cassandra. Be safe."


	25. Chapter 25

Dorian stared down at the stinking clump of quillback intestines in utter disgust. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"What's the matter, Dorian?" Alec smiled at his expression. "It's dragon bait. What did you expect? Did you think an Abyssal High Dragon would enjoy snacking on petit-fours and caviar?"

"It's not that." Dorian wrinkled his nose when he caught another whiff of the foul smell. "I mean, yes, it's that, too, but contrary to your assumptions I'm not too delicate to put up with a little discomfort for a good cause. But why in Thedas do you want to lure out the dragon in the first place?"

"You heard Frederic." Alec grinned. " _It will be a momentous achievement in draconology_. We're doing it for science."

"Alec! This isn't a joke!" Much as he appreciated Alec's sense of humour as a rule, there was a time and place for it, and it was not the desert in the midday heat. "Look, we don't have to do this, just to please that madman. The dragon hasn't attacked us or any of our people. Leave it alone. No one in their right mind would intentionally bait a dragon."

"Why not? Aren't you at least a little tempted?" Alec's eyes were shining with excitement, but Dorian knew him well enough to detect the underlying notes of nervousness in his voice, the faint trembling of his hands. "We'll be dragon-slayers, just like Hawke or the Hero of Ferelden! Besides, I bet there will be treasure. And Harritt got really excited when I mentioned dragon scales and webbing."

"Oh, for Andraste's sake, Alec! We can _buy_ them, if you really think we need them. No need to risk our own lives." Dorian shook his head, furious at Alec for coming up with yet another feigned reason. "And since when are you so eager for glory? Leave the dragon hunting to the Pentaghasts. At least they know what they're doing."

"Well, we have one of them with us, so we should be fine." Alec was still affecting a light-hearted tone, and it was driving Dorian mad. "And Bull can't wait to take on a dragon. He's been badgering me for months. Come on, Dorian. We can't avoid fighting dragons forever. There's three of them in the Emprise by the last count, and Corypheus-"

"Oh! That's what this really is about, isn't it?" _Of course._ Why hadn't he seen it earlier? Dorian fought the urge to grab Alec and shake him. "You want a practice run before you face his red lyrium dragon."

"Yes. No. I-" Alec broke off, averting his gaze. "Look, if you must know, I… I'm frightened to death of Corypheus' pet. Ever since Haven, half of my nightmares have been about that gaping maw of teeth closing in on me." When he turned back, his lips were set in a determined line. "I need to face my fears, Dorian. No one can see the Inquisitor run and hide like a scared little boy. It was bad enough at Adamant. I nearly fainted when that thing showed up."

_And yet you didn't run. You're still selling yourself short_. Dorian didn't speak his thoughts aloud. It was clear that Alec's mind was set, and no amount of reasoning would deter him from risking his life on this fool's errand. "You really think we stand a chance against a full-grown high dragon?"

Alec shrugged. "We won't know until we try. But hey, if we don't, then who does? With the three of you at my side..."

"But that's just it!" Dorian had to make one last attempt. "Why don't we take more people with us? The Chargers would be willing to help, I bet."

His lips set in a stubborn line, Alec shook his head. "I'm not asking anyone else to risk their lives. Our troops aren't expendable."  He placed his hand on Dorian's bare arm, and he was no longer trembling now. "We won't need them. I can do anything knowing I have you at my back, Dorian. Anything."

"Well, then." Dorian sighed in resignation. "Let's go and set the traps."

* * *

Cassandra cursed irritably, fiddling with her torn leather breeches. When the dragon had struck at her in the throes of death, its razor-sharp claw had sliced clean through her padded cuisse, leaving her with a nasty gash on her left thigh that needed tending. She'd already taken off most of her armour and found a poultice to place on the wound, but it wouldn't stay in place. It was hard to see what she was doing in the dim light of the campfire, and her hands had begun to shake from the effort of suppressing the pain.

"Let me help you." A tiny magelight popped up right next to her leg, and before she could protest, Dorian was on his knees next to her, running a gentle hand along her leg. "You need a healer."

"It's nothing. A flesh wound." She flinched when he lifted the poultice, reopening the gash.

"I'll see what I can do, but your breeches are in the way." Dorian's tone was calm and factual. "They need to go."

Before she could protest, he'd taken a slim dagger from his belt and swiftly cut away the leather, baring her thigh. Against her will, she tensed. It felt strangely intimate, to be half naked on the ground with him kneeling between her legs, his hands on her body. _Don't be silly_ , she chided herself. _It's hardly the first time a man is tending to your wounds._

Dorian noticed her discomfort. "Don't worry, my dear. I can assure you that the sight of your leg, aesthetically pleasing as it may be under normal circumstances, won't awaken any improper feelings in me. I'm quite immune to your charms." His smile was almost wolfish. "Now, if it was Alec's shapely thighs we were talking about…"

"How's he doing?" Cassandra glanced over to where Alec had fallen into a drugged sleep on his bedroll, occasionally whimpering when the pain in his burned arm flared up.

They hadn't bothered with tents. Normally, they would have returned to Griffon Wing Keep straight away after killing the dragon, but their mounts had bolted when the beast had attacked from the air. They were all battered and bruised, and there was no way they would be able to walk all the way. So they had sent Frederic of Seurault back to the Keep with a message, and were now waiting for the Chargers to come and pick them up.

"He'll be fine." Dorian's voice was full of tenderness. "Burns are always painful, but I've done what I could. I've forced him to drink the last of our potions, and the healers at the Keep will take care of the rest. I just wish I was better at healing spells." He looked down at his hands with an almost comically resigned expression. "Isn't it weird? I can do so much damage with these hands, but when it comes to helping others, I'm all but useless."

"The damage you did helped us a lot." Cassandra winced when he tightened the bandage on her leg. "Without your spells, we'd never have taken down the beast. Thank you."

Dorian made a small, dismissive noise, but she could see he was pleased. She was about to say more, when the sound of approaching hooves told them their reinforcements were near. Bull got to his feet and reached for his horn. He, too, was a little unsteady, having taken a nasty blow to his crippled leg.

It didn't take long for the Chargers to find them. Krem slid off his horse in a movement full of fluid grace and embraced Bull with a loud whoop. "You really did it, chief? You killed a dragon?"

"We sure did." Bull's loud guffaw echoed all through the valley. "Ah, Krem, you should have seen us. The dragon didn't stand a chance, right, Seeker?" He didn't wait for her answer, just went on, his scarred face lit by a wide smile. "Cassandra never flinched, just stood there and faced it, bold as brass, staring it down, while I went for its hamstrings with my axe. And Alec rained down arrows on its wings so it couldn't get off the ground any more. Oh, yeah, and Dorian had a few good spells up his sleeve, too. Froze it in place so we could catch a breath." He laughed again. "It was an epic fight, boys. Bring on more dragons, I say. We can take them all!"

Cassandra couldn't believe her ears. When she turned to face Dorian, she could see his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"Funny." She was far too exhausted to call Bull out on his boasting, so she kept her voice down, but it had to be said. "I seem to remember the fight… differently."

"As do I." Dorian's tone easily matched hers for dryness. "He forgot to mention the bit where he was lying on the ground screaming for help after the dragon had swept us all off our feet with a swipe of its tail."

"Or the moment when Alec's left arm caught fire and he had to drop his bow and hide behind a stone column." Cassandra shook her head. "And how about when you were down to your last lyrium potion and had barely enough power left to throw up a barrier over the four of us? Or when I dropped my sword right when I could have made the killing blow?"

"Yeah, well…" Dorian chuckled again. "I guess his version of the story makes us sound a lot more impressive. Proper heroes can't be seen to have flaws."

"It guess you're right about that." Another wave of pain hit her, and she would have given anything for an elfroot potion. "Though I have to admit I don't feel particularly heroic right now."

"Come on, Cassandra." He took her arm and helped her to her feet. "Let's get back to the Keep. We all deserve some rest."

* * *

Alec's head was spinning. _What in the Void is going on here?_ Maker, it wasn't as if he couldn't hold his drink. In all his misspent youth, he'd never been the first to call quits. Then again, he'd never drunk with a Qunari before.

"To killing a high dragon, like the warriors of legend." Bull grinned at him, raising yet another glass of _maraas-lok_. "What's the matter, boss? Had enough?"

Alec attempted a quick mental calculation, but it was hard to say how much of the strange brew he'd had already, because Bull kept refilling the glasses before they were empty. _Too much, in any case_. If he was quite honest, he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it to the door without help, let alone back to his quarters.

"Blight it, Bull, what is this stuff?" Maker, it was an effort to speak clearly. How was he ever going to get out of this without embarrassing himself? "I think I-"

"Don't worry, boss." Bull grabbed a passing servant girl by the sleeve and whispered something in her ear. She disappeared with a quick nod.

"Have some water." To his relief, Bull removed the half-full glass in front of him and replaced it with a pitcher of clear well water.

Drinking it helped clear his head a little, but even so, he felt decidedly tipsy. "Thanks, Bull. I think I'd better call it a day."

"Wait." Bull stopped him with a hand on his arm when he tried to get up. "I'll take you to the door."

"No need… Ooops." _Shit_. The floor lurched beneath his feet, and he was sincerely grateful for Bull's steadying grip on his elbow.

To his credit, Bull didn't laugh, just got to his feet, and carefully guided Alec toward the door. The cool air was a welcome relief, but he had no idea how to cross the courtyard – until he saw Dorian coming toward him. _Thank the Maker!_ Dimly, he felt Bull give him a little shove, and then he was in Dorian's arms, and he felt so good and smelled so good and Alec couldn't help kissing him, he just couldn't, and-

"Alec! Not here." Dorian didn't sound mad, but he firmly pushed Alec back, much to his chagrin. "Come on. I'll take you home."

Somehow they made it across the yard. It was easier to walk in a straight line with Dorian's arm around his waist, though the light was too bright in his eyes and made his head hurt. No amount of squinting would help, so in the end, he just gave up and closed them, leaning his head against Dorian's shoulder.

"Maker, Alec, what have you been drinking?" Dorian's voice was warm and tender in his ear, and his low chuckle sent pleasant shivers down Alec's spine. "You could at least have saved some for me."

"Sorry." Dimly, Alec realized that they were on the stairs leading to his rooms, and then Dorian kicked the door open and dragged him across the threshold. "I just didn't think you'd want it, you know. I'd have shared with you." He leaned against Dorian's firm, solid body and earnestly caught his gaze. This was important. "I'd share anything with you. I love you."

"Well, that's nice to know." Dorian's lips were twitching. "You're cute when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Alec protested, even as Dorian manoeuvred him into a chair and knelt at his feet to remove his boots. "Just in a good mood. And horny."

"Are you now?" Dorian was smiling openly now. "Come on. I'll take you to bed."

"Good plan." Alec saw no reason to object when Dorian helped him out of his shirt and pants and made him lie down on the bed. "Come here."

"I don't know…" Dorian hesitated. "Think you're going to be sick?"

"I never am." His righteous indignation was so great that he sat up quickly, groaning when he felt the bed spin. "I'm a Marcher. Everyone knows we have ironclad stomachs."

"All right. Don't get mad at me." Gently, Dorian pushed him back into the cushions and quickly threw off his own clothes. "I'll come in with you if you promise not to puke all over me."

"I swear." And then Dorian was with him in the bed, and he felt so good, his skin so silky and soft, and Alec happily snuggled up against him, inhaling his scent. "Thanks for taking care of me. That's so sweet of you."

"It's fine. Now sleep." Dorian breathed a light kiss on his cheek, but Alec turned his head and caught his lips, pulling him in for a proper kiss.

All right, maybe he _was_ drunk, but he wasn't too far gone to appreciate having a naked Dorian in his arms. There were a number of things he could think of doing in a situation like this, and none of them involved sleeping. Much to his relief, his body was fully on board with the idea.

When he finally let go of Dorian's mouth, his lover was breathing faster, too, and Alec rolled his hips wantonly against him. "I don't want to sleep. I want you to fuck me."

"Alec!" Dorian sounded mildly shocked, but at the same time, his cock twitched eagerly against Alec's thigh. "Blight it, you need to sleep this off first. You're in no state to-"

"Oh yes, I am. Feel." His head still felt woozy, but his cock was getting harder by the minute, and he guided Dorian's hand down there, moaning loudly, when he felt his familiar touch. "Please. I want you. You feel so good inside me. No one else has ever felt as good. Only you." He'd have been embarrassed to talk like this at any other time, but tonight it was easy. And it had the desired effect.

"You-" Dorian moaned helplessly. "You are impossible. All right. If you insist."

And then his mouth and hands were _everywhere_ , and Alec lost himself completely in his caresses, urging him along, begging for his cock, babbling incoherent nonsense. Only when Dorian finally pushed deep inside him, did he fall silent, suddenly too overcome to talk.

"Are you all right?" Dorian sounded a bit worried, but Alec didn't want him to worry. He wanted him to be happy, insanely, mind-blowingly happy, just like he was.

"It's all good. Just…" Instinctively, he arched his back, and yes, the angle was perfect, and he groaned, deep in his throat. "Just you. Only you."

"Maker, _Alec_!" Dorian cried out his name and he _felt_ it, with crystal clarity, even through the haze in his head, felt the exact moment when Dorian lost control.

But it was fine, it was all good, because Alec was so ready for him that he could take it, all of it, and he _wanted_ Dorian's deep, hard strokes, he welcomed them with every fibre of his being. And then Dorian grabbed him by the hair, yanking back his head, and suddenly there were no words any longer, and all he knew was that he was close, so close to coming, until a last, perfectly placed thrust sent them both over the edge. And he was falling, floating weightlessly through space and time, grounded only by Dorian's sure touch on his flank.

Afterwards, he felt too heavy and exhausted to even open his eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell his beloved, so much he wanted him to know, but when he weakly tried to speak, Dorian gently shushed him. In some dim recess of his mind, Alec noticed Dorian disentangling from him and cleaning them both up, then pulling the soft blanket over both their bodies. By the time he extinguished the candle at their bedside, Alec was already fast asleep.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

"So now you can add dragon slayer to your many titles, eh? I have to admit, I'm impressed." Cullen sounded serious, but as he moved his chess piece across the board, his expression turned a tad mischievous. "It's a good thing I can still beat you at chess or I might get jealous of your achievements."

Alec raised an eyebrow, while in his head, he was quickly running through several different moves he could make in response. None of them would do more than delay the inevitable. _I don't believe it. He's got me again_. He would have loved to blame his defeat on a hangover, but thanks to one of Dorian's miraculous elfroot potions the headache he'd awoken with was all but gone. No, this was all Cullen's doing.

"Blight it, how do you do it? I used to think I was good at chess, but you put me to shame every time we play." With a deep sigh, he pushed the board toward Cullen. "I yield. And really, my achievements aren't all that impressive. I spent most of the fight hiding behind a rock nursing my wounds. It was Cassandra who took down the dragon, in true Pentaghast fashion. Without her, we'd all be dead."

"You're so lucky to have her." When Alec gave him a long, searching look, Cullen blushed to the roots of his hair. "Well. She is amazing. An amazing warrior, I mean."

"She is. And an amazing woman, too." Some part of Alec was thrilled to have found a way to fluster the man. Cullen had become much more relaxed in his presence lately, but he was still taking himself far too seriously. "Does she know how you feel about her?"

"She-" Cullen's face had almost turned scarlet. "Yes. We… We've talked."

"And?" Alec was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest, not bothering to hide his grin. "Come on, Cullen. We all know there's something going on here. Don't make me drag it out of you one word at a time."

Cullen sighed wearily. "You're just as bad as my sister Mia."

"How so?" Alec recognized the diversionary tactic for what it was, but at the same time, he was really curious. Cullen had mentioned his sister once, when he'd told Alec how she'd taught him to play chess, but he'd never talked about his family again.

"I write to her regularly." Cullen cleared his throat. "Well, not as regularly as I should, probably. Anyway, it seems that in my last letter I referred to Cassandra by her first name instead of calling her Seeker Pentaghast."

Alec chuckled. "And your sister picked up on it straight away. Of course she did. Mine would have done the same."

"You have several sisters, don't you?" Cullen sounded sincerely sympathetic. "All older than you?"

"Three. And yes, they are older than me, by quite a bit." Alec felt a sudden flush of nostalgia, when he thought of them.

His sisters were all married and gone from home now, but when he'd been a boy, he'd always been around them. His brothers had never had time for him. They had been too busy hunting and following his father around, but the girls had been different: Kenna, the eldest, whom he'd called a mother hen more than once, because she would worry so much about him when he was out late. Ailsa, the family beauty, with her mane of golden hair that he alone was allowed to brush for her. And sweet Mairi who would sneak him treats when he'd been sent to bed without dinner again.

"You miss them." Cullen had watched his face, and there was genuine warmth in his tone.

"I do. Occasionally." Alec flashed him a quick smile. "Then again, most of the time I'm quite happy to have flown the coop. Having a big family can be… stifling. What about you, Cullen?"

"Ah, it's been so long since I've seen any of them." Cullen rubbed his neck. "I was thirteen when I left for Templar training, so my younger siblings don't really remember me all that well. Mia is the only one who still keeps in touch."

"Needs to make sure her little brother is taking good care of himself, right?" Alec smiled at Cullen's embarrassed little cough. "Aw, come on, Cullen. It's rather endearing, don't you think?"

Cullen shot him a dark look. "Not really. I can look after myself just fine."

"Well, I don't know…" Alec found he was enjoying himself tremendously. "Seems to me you could do with a little sisterly guidance, at least where your love life is concerned." He winked suggestively. "You might need a little push there, or you'll never take the leap."

"Stop it." Cullen actually groaned. "Look, I… I really care about Cassandra. And I'm terribly afraid to get this wrong, so-"

"Ah, don't worry." Alec did his best to sound reassuring. "Cassandra is not the type to run around in circles. I'm sure she'll let you know exactly what she wants."

* * *

It was late at night when she finally made it to Cullen's eyrie, up in the old tower. He'd been there to welcome them all back, of course, and to admire the dragon skull, but there had been no time to talk in private. And now the sun had already gone down and most of Skyhold had settled down for the night. Not Cullen, though. He was still up, and doubtlessly still working.

Cassandra frowned as she knocked sharply on the heavy oak door. It wasn't good for him to drive himself so hard. Besides, she'd missed him, and she was eager to pick up where they'd left off before her departure. They had wasted more than enough time already, and she didn't intend to go back to the slow dance of courtship they'd engaged in for so long.

She wanted more. This time, when he kissed her again, there would be no Jim to interrupt them, no awkward explanations. And she rather hoped he would kiss her again, because what a kiss it had been! The mere memory was enough to make her shiver in anticipation.

"Come in." He sounded weary, and vaguely impatient.

Just as she had guessed, he was bent over a stack of paperwork on his desk. His hair was a little tousled, as if he'd run his hand repeatedly through it, and his face looked different in the candlelight, younger and softer. For a moment, her heart felt as if it was gripped by a tight fist, a feeling both sweet and painful. Maker, but she had _missed_ him.

When he saw her, Cullen straightened up with a smile and came toward her to grasp both her hands in greeting, throwing a guilty little glance at the dark sky outside the window. "Cassandra. I've been meaning to come and see you, but there was so much to do. I've been going through all of Leliana's old spy reports on the Red Templars, and I don't-"

"Don't you think you've done enough today?" Letting go of his hands, she gently stroked his cheek. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and his jaw was tense, but under her touch, he relaxed a little. "The Red Templars will keep until tomorrow."

He laughed, a little self-consciously. "You think? There always seems to be more I should do. If I can't join you out there in the field, the least I can do-"

Before he could finish his sentence, she had slipped past him and placed herself between him and his desk, leaning against the heavy monstrosity. "No more papers and maps today. I won't let you."

She had expected protests or excuses, but instead, he was suddenly right before her, both hands on the desk, looming over her, tall and broad-shouldered. His beautiful hazel eyes had grown pitch dark. "You won't?" Maker, and his voice had dropped, too, at least an octave.

Cassandra felt such a rush of heat to her core that it made her dizzy. Instinctively, she held on to his bare forearm for balance. At the same time, a small noise escaped her lips, a needy little whine that would have been embarrassing if not for the effect it had on him.

"Maker, Cassandra, you-" A violent shudder went all through his powerful body, and suddenly his right arm was around her waist, lifting her up bodily and setting her down on the desk, while his left swept off the papers in one broad swathe. Before she knew what was happening, she was flat on her back, and he was on top of her, and she could feel the heat of his body even through their clothes.

He was heavy and she gasped for air, but he was already pushing himself up on those marvellous arms, and it did things to her, to have him there, above her, all that strength and power, just barely reined in. Bending down, he kissed her, no hesitation this time, just sheer, naked passion, and she was helpless, defenceless against the fire he lit under her skin, arching up below him without shame or restraint, begging for his touch.

His hands were on her hips, lovingly tracing their curve through the leather of her breeches, and then he was tugging at the hem of her shirt, shaking with impatience. Cassandra was moaning openly now, and she knew she wouldn't deny him, couldn't possibly-

"Ow!" She'd forgotten about the bandage, forgotten to tell him about the wound on her thigh. It was nearly healed by now, but in his impetuousness, he'd ground against her, and it _hurt_!

Cullen pulled back immediately, with a concerned frown on his face, and she could have slapped herself. "You're in pain."

"It's nothing." Cassandra tried to pull him back, but he wouldn't have it, even though he was still breathing hard.

"Please forgive me. I'm such a brute sometimes." The distress in his voice pained her more than the wound ever could.

"Cullen!" She almost had to scream to get his attention. "It is fine. Did you hear me complain? I want this, just as much as you do."

He looked at her as if he couldn't believe it. "It's been a long time since I've wanted anyone in my life, but… Maker help me, yes, I want this. I want you." Cassandra held her breath, but his face had already set into an all too familiar stubborn expression. "We will do it properly, though." Stepping back, he inhaled deeply. "We will wait for your wound to heal, at least a few days, and then… Will you let me make it up to you?"

She almost protested, almost told him there was no need to wait, but there was so much raw vulnerability in his gaze that she relented. "Of course."

"Well, then…" He took her hand, raising it to his lips, and she shivered involuntarily when he breathed a kiss on her knuckles. "Meet me out on the battlements, near the old guard tower, three nights from now. Yes?"

"Yes." Cassandra held her breath. _Though I've no idea how I'm going to bear waiting for so long._

* * *

"Commander Cullen?" When Dorian looked up from the hefty volume on early Tevinter history he'd been immersed in for the past three hours, he couldn't believe his eyes. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

The Commander was definitely the last person he'd expected to show up in the library. Not that Cullen was stupid or illiterate, but he tended to be far too busy to have time for such frivolous things as books. He had to be here on a different errand altogether. Yes. That was the only explanation that made sense.

"Dorian." Cullen sounded grimly determined. "I've come to ask your advice. I'm looking for a book, and I don't think I can find it on my own."

Another surprise. Dorian raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. The Commander _did_ look a little lost among the shelves, as if he was overwhelmed by the amount of titles on the spines.

"Of course. What kind of book?" Carefully putting aside his own reading material on a little table next to his cosy armchair, Dorian got to his feet.

"I'm looking for…" Cullen hesitated, but then clearly decided that it was no use beating about the bush. "Poetry. Love poems, to be precise."

Dorian nearly choked on the violet pastille he'd been chewing. "I beg your pardon? Did you really say-"

"Yes. Stop pretending you haven't understood me perfectly well." Cullen looked grim. "Look, I've already been subjected to several hours of needling from Alec. No need to torment me further."

"I wasn't going to." Dorian grinned happily. "And of course I'll gladly help you with your little problem. But, just in case you should happen to be looking for a way to win the Lady Seeker's favour…" He coughed discreetly.

"Go on." Cullen's brow was still creased in a forbidding frown, but was that the hint of a smile tugging at his lips?

"Well, you may or may not know that she enjoys reading stories of a… let's say, adventurous nature? Such as the ones composed by our dear friend Varric?" Dorian did his best to look innocent.

"I… Yes, I know that." Cullen threw him a sharp look. "But how do _you_ know?"

Dorian shrugged. "Oh, she lent me a few of her favourites. Some were quite amusing. Others, I couldn't bring myself to finish. Though I grant you, the scenes between the two protagonists were… fascinating." And that was nothing but the truth. _Anatomically impossible, but really intriguing._ "Anyway, if you really want to make Cassandra happy, I suggest you have a talk with Varric. She's been waiting forever for him to write a sequel to _Swords and Shields._ If you can persuade him, I bet she'd be _very grateful_." He let just a little bit of _double entendre_ creep into his last words.

"You think I should talk to Varric?" Cullen blushed all the way down to the collar of his shirt. "I don't think I can do that. I'd never hear the end of it. Besides, I'm not sure that's the approach I'm looking for. I was thinking of something more… romantic."

_Keeping it chaste for now. I see._ Dorian rather doubted Cassandra would appreciate so much restraint, but he knew better than to get any further involved in the details of their courtship. "Keep it in mind for later then, when the two of you are a little more comfortable with each other. Besides, I'm afraid not even Varric could churn out a sequel in just a few days. Actually, maybe he could. Now, there's a scary thought…"

Cullen coughed pointedly. "So, about those poems…"

"Ah, yes." Dorian allowed himself another smile. _Maybe I can find you something not quite as harmless._ "Follow me, Commander. I've got just the thing you're looking for."


	27. Chapter 27

Cullen had planned it all so carefully. He had rigged the guard rotation, so they wouldn't be disturbed. He'd chosen a place where they would be well-protected from the elements and from prying eyes – this part of the battlements was sheltered by the scaffolding put up for the guard tower renovations. He had lit candles, and spread his coat over a wooden bench to provide a comfortable seat. He had even managed to get hold of a beautiful, dark red rose. And he'd picked the perfect poem to recite to Cassandra.

And now, here she was, and he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word. All he could do was take her hand and press it to his lips, kissing it passionately, praying from the depth of his soul that she would understand.

"Cullen." Her voice was rough with emotion. "Did you… did you prepare all this? For me?"

"I… Yes." He dared raise his gaze to meet hers. Her lips were trembling just the tiniest bit, and her eyes, Maker her eyes! They were so full of love and tenderness that it _hurt_.

"No one has ever-" She broke off. "What is that?" Her sharp eyes had spotted the little book he was clutching in his other hand. " _Carmenum di Amatus._ Are you going to read _poetry_ to me?"

He winced, not certain whether she was mocking him. "I… I'm not sure. I found the perfect poem in here, but I probably won't be able to do it justice, and I-"

"Show me, then." No, there was no trace of ridicule in her tone. "We can read it together." She sat down on the bench, patting the seat next to her invitingly. "I am curious."

Cullen took a deep breath. He felt dizzy with confusion. _Andraste, why is this so hard?_ He was a seasoned warrior, a commander of armies, not a blushing school boy confessing his feelings to his first love. Though, in all honesty, he had never felt what he did now, not for any other woman. He'd been smitten with Solona's charm and beauty, but that had been so long ago. He'd been so young and naïve then, a different man. Since then, he'd occasionally enjoyed the favours of others, but this, this intense, painful longing… this was wholly new and quite wonderful.

Sitting down next to Cassandra, so close that he could feel her warmth through the thin leather of their breeches, he quickly found the passage he'd marked. "It's this one. It's as if-" Once again, he had to gather his courage. "It's as if the poet had been thinking of you when he wrote it."

He heard her breath hitch, but he didn't look at her, just focussed on the page and began to read in a low voice.

"She walks in beauty, like the night   
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that’s best of dark and bright   
Meet in her aspect and her eyes…"

He had to stop at this point, because his voice refused to obey him. Instead, he took her hand and gripped it, so hard it had to hurt.

Cassandra made a small, soothing noise and took over, reading the second stanza, and the sound of her voice, rich and melodious, did things to him he couldn't explain. By the time they reached the last lines, he had recovered sufficiently to join her and they finished it together.

"The smiles that win, the tints that glow,   
But tell of days in goodness spent,  
A mind at peace with all below,   
A heart whose love is innocent!"

There was a moment of silence before she raised his hand and softly pressed it to her cheek. "Cullen. That was unbelievably sweet." Her eyes were shining with affection. "Though, really…" A faint blush rose to her cheeks. "I don't know why you would think it suits me. I'm hardly as beautiful as the lady in the poem."

"You are, to me." Twisting around, he reached for the rose and offered it to her. "Cassandra. I'm not eloquent like the poets, but I love you. And I-"

She stopped him by placing a finger on his lips. "And I'm not quite as innocent either." There was a glint of mischief in her eyes. "But I love you, too, Cullen. I really do."

He wanted to kiss her, so badly, but before he could, she had already taken the book from his hands and was quickly leafing through it. "If I remember correctly… Yes, there it is. What do you think of this one?"

She began to read, still smiling, and he could hardly believe his ears.

"I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;  
Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:  
Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry,  
Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie-"

"Sweet Maker, Cassandra!" Cullen could no longer stop himself.

Taking the book from her grip, he pulled her into a kiss, a kiss that was far too greedy, but hearing her speak those words had robbed him of all restraint. He was half-mad with desire, shaking with the force of it, and the way she moulded her body against his did nothing to quell the fire that was burning inside him.

When he finally let go of her, her lips looked ripe and bruised, but she was still smiling. "Shall we read another?"

The husky edge in her voice went straight to his groin and he actually groaned aloud. "I don't think I can stand any more of this. You-"

"Then take me to bed." Cassandra's hand was on his neck, her finger threading through his hair, her lips brushing against his. "Now."

"Your wish is my command." It took an effort, but he didn't kiss her again, or they wouldn't have made it to his quarters.

Instead, he got to his feet, pulling her up with him. Swiftly, they worked together to gather up all he'd brought. Cassandra held on to the rose, cradling it between her fingers as delicately as if it were made from glass. As he extinguished the last candle, he felt her hand on his shoulder, just a light touch, but it nearly made him jump.

"Now." Taking his hand, she led the way. "No more waiting."

* * *

It seemed to take forever, that short walk along the battlements to Cullen's tower. Cassandra could have screamed with impatience. Her skin felt hot and tingly all over, and her pulse was thrumming. And at the same time, she was so deeply touched by the care and forethought Cullen had put into that little scene.

He was close behind her. When she had shivered in the night air, he'd solicitously wrapped his coat around her shoulders, so she was snug and warm now. It felt strangely intimate to wear this garment that she associated so closely with him, to breathe in his scent and to feel the soft fur tickle her skin.

They didn't touch on the way to his quarters. Cassandra wasn't sure she would have been able to keep control otherwise. It had been so long since she'd felt that kind of attraction for any man. Not since Galyan; Galyan who had been as different from Cullen as two men could possibly be; Galyan who was dead and gone. And that thought still hurt, no matter that their love had ended long before his death. Was she really ready to risk that kind of heartbreak again?

And then she glanced at Cullen and saw the look of intense focus on his face, saw the quick, nervous smile he flashed her and she realized it was a moot question. It was too late for such considerations, far too late, because her heart already belonged to him.

Finally, he pushed the door open with his shoulders, finally they were inside, alone, and he was pulling her into his arms again, kissing her like a man starved for years. The cloak dropped to the floor, pooling at her feet. She ought to pick it up and put it away properly, but she was long past caring for such mundane concerns.

Without letting go of his lips, she tried to steer them toward the ladder leading up to his sleeping quarters. When he realized where she was headed, Cullen moaned and pulled back with visible effort. Moments later, she was climbing up, with him close behind her, and then they were tumbling onto the bed, kissing again, frantically tearing at each other's clothes.

Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, she ran her hands all over his hard chest, tracing the muscles, revelling in the smoothness of his skin. She had wanted to do this ever since that game of Wicked Grace, ever since she'd seen how perfectly built he was, how incredibly gorgeous. Just looking at him made her breathing speed up.

Her shirt came off next, and Cullen just _stared_ at her, as if she was some sort of miracle. "You're so beautiful."

Cassandra shook her head impatiently. "Cullen, you don't have to say those things. I know full well I'm not beautiful."

"I'll keep saying it until you believe me." He gently cupped one breast in his large hand. "Cassandra… Let me make love to you, please. I… I used to be good at this." He laughed a little self-consciously. "Some time back in the last age."

Slowly, he moved lower, flicking his tongue lightly against her nipple, making her cry out with the sudden, sharp pleasure of it. "Good?"

"More." Instinctively, she cradled his head in her hand and pulled him in closer. "Please."

He obliged willingly, his tongue dancing over her flesh, but it still wasn't enough, and she made a small impatient noise. And then he _sucked_ , softly at first, then with more and more insistence until she cried out again, because the pull went straight to her core, and it was so _good_. She was so wet for him already that it was embarrassing.

She wiggled out of her pants and smalls with more speed than grace, and when she tugged on his, he followed suit. And suddenly they were naked, both of them, no more barriers between them, and for a heartbeat it scared her, to be so utterly vulnerable in his presence. But then he looked at her and his gaze was so frank and open and full of love that all her fears and inhibitions disappeared.

He took her hand and guided it lower, in a mute plea to touch him, and she wrapped her fingers around him, running them along the whole length of him.

"Oh, sweet Andraste!"  His eyes were dark and a little wild, and she felt him pulse in her hand. "Please, Cassandra. I was going to be patient, I was going to take my time, but now… I need you."

Nodding, she lay back and spread her legs as wide as she could, and he slid between them. She was nervous, more than she cared to admit, but he kissed her again, and before she had time to overthink it, he was pushing inside her, slow and controlled. He was _always_ so controlled, and she loved that about him, even as she yearned to break that control for once. She had to wiggle a little to accommodate him, but once he was all the way inside her… _Oh, sweet Maker!_ She moaned helplessly, completely overwhelmed.

He paused immediately. "All right?"

"Yes. Don't stop." It was more than all right. A _lot_ more than all right. Shivering from head to toe, she arched up to meet his first, careful thrust.

There was no way to describe it, no way to do it justice. She could _feel_ his love and devotion, feel it in the way he touched her, almost reverently. It was the most incredible sensation, to be treasured like this. And yet… She needed him to realize that she was human, not an idol to be put on a pedestal. He was moving faster now, but still so very gently, as if he was afraid she would break, and that wouldn't do.

Locking her legs around his waist, she made him stop. "Cullen. Do I look _delicate_ to you?"

He gasped in surprise, but when she placed her hands on the small of his back to push him deeper, he cried out and his hips snapped hard against her. "Oh Maker, I-" He groaned sharply. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Do that again." Cassandra flinched at how aggressive she sounded, but he obeyed without thinking, and this second rough thrust was so perfect it made her see stars. "Again." This time, he complied immediately, pushing himself up above her and allowing his body to take over.

And yes, this was what she'd been craving. Within moments, she was panting, begging him, urging him on in a voice she didn't recognize as her own, until finally the tension broke inside her and a wave of pleasure washed over her, so sweet and yet so powerful it made tears come to her eyes. He whined at the sight of her and followed her with just a few quick, hard thrusts, collapsing on top of her, spent and shivering.

They didn't make love again that night. Both of them were content just to hold each other, to exchange kisses and whispers of love. By the time the sun went up, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms, clinging tightly to each other.

* * *

It was weird to be out exploring without Cassandra. If he was quite honest, Alec didn't feel truly safe without her at his side. True, they had managed to get along fine without her so far. The Iron Bull was a force of nature all by himself, and with a little help from Krem and the Chargers, they had easily dealt with the undead swarming the Exalted Plains.

They had set up camp near the Enavuris River and made themselves comfortable around the fire. Skinner and Bull had drawn first watch and were quietly patrolling the camp's perimeter. Alec was resting with his head in Dorian's lap, while Harding and Krem were sitting next to each other on a log, sharing the rest of the wine Marshall Proulx had sent them as a token of gratitude for cleaning out the ramparts.

"You did an amazing job over at Fort Revasan, Krem." Alec smiled at the Chargers' second-in-command. "When you knocked that arcane horror over with your shield. Cassandra couldn't have done it better."

"Ah, knock it off, Your Worship. Cassandra is in a class of her own." Krem looked pleased, though, despite his harsh words. "Why did you leave her at Skyhold anyway? We could have used her help."

"True." With a yawn, Alec sat up, rubbing his head affectionately against Dorian's shoulder. "But I figured she deserved a break. And some alone time with the Commander, now that they have finally sorted things out."

"And about time, too." Dorian sniffled daintily. "Taking it slow is all well and good, but I was beginning to fear they would set the war table on fire with their heated looks."

"Awww, come on." Harding gave him a chastising look. "Don't be mean. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's those two."

Krem chuckled, elbowing her none-too-gently in the ribs. "Yeah, well, from what I gather you've been making the Chief pretty happy as well lately. Love is in the air, eh?"

Alec, who had been sipping on a mug of tea, nearly choked on the hot liquid. He couldn't believe his ears. " _What_?" he sputtered.

"There, there." Dorian gently patted his back. "I thought you knew."

"Why would I? No one ever tells _me_ anything." Alec was feeling distinctly annoyed.

One glance at Harding was enough to confirm the truth of Krem's statement. She was blushing to the roots of her hair.

But she was ignoring Alec's reaction completely, glancing uncertainly at Krem instead. "Do you… mind? I mean, I know you and him used to-"

"Nah." Krem stretched lazily, grinning at her, perfectly at ease. "I like him well enough, but he's yours if you want him."

Alec was still struggling to come to terms with that new turn of events. "But how does that even work? I mean, he's a giant, and you…" His words were greeted with an uncomfortable silence, and he cringed in embarrassment. "Never mind. I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"It's all right." Harding shrugged, her lips twitching. "And to answer your question, we manage just fine."

"Well…" Krem's grin widened. "Bull mentioned once that he's on the small side, for a Qunari. He's never let that bother him, though. Says it makes… relations with other races easier. Less wear and tear, he said."

"Ouch. I don't think I needed to hear that." Alec felt his ears heat up. "Too much information."

"Relax." Dorian ruffled his hair. "I say, good for him. And congratulations, Harding. The two of you make quite a charming couple."

Harding glared at him, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. "Woah. Not so fast. We're not married yet."

Alec leaned back into Dorian's touch with a contented sigh. _Well, neither are we. But maybe, one day.._. "Plenty of time to think of such things when Corypheus is gone," he said aloud. "For now, we've got enough other problems."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to Lord Byron and Will Shakespeare for borrowing those lines from their poems - though I'm pretty sure they wouldn't mind. ;)


	28. Chapter 28

Dorian wasn't enthusiastic about ancient Tevinter architecture as a rule. But he had to admit that the Shrine of Dumat was impressive - in a dark, menacing, _we-are-going-to-enslave-you-and-bleed-you-dry_ way. Which was probably exactly the impression its builders had meant to convey.

Next to him, Alec was shivering in the night air. He looked uncertain, frequently glancing at Cullen as if he wished the Commander would take charge of the whole affair. But of course Cullen didn't – he knew better than to undermine the Inquisitor's authority in such a manner. In fact, it was highly unusual for him to join them on one of their missions. Normally, Cullen would have stayed back at Skyhold, planning and overseeing their troops' movements, content with his role in the background. But tonight he had chosen to be at their side, in their raid on General Samson's headquarters. He knew the man from his time in Kirkwall, he'd said, and he'd sounded strained, as if he wasn't keen on revisiting those memories.

Whatever his reasons, seeing Cullen's familiar silhouette outlined against the night sky, hearing his quiet voice as he suggested a course of action felt… reassuring, actually. _And if that isn't a weird thought to have about a Templar. Well, an ex-Templar, but still._ Dorian shook his head at his own musings.

Templar or not, there could be no doubt that Cullen was a real asset in a fight. It was easy to see why he had risen through the ranks of the Order, why he had been entrusted with a command at such a relatively young age. He was a masterful swordfighter as well as a natural leader, and even Cassandra seemed proud to fight at his side. _Well, she may have reasons of her own for looking at him like that._

"Dorian? Can you make sense of this inscription?" Cullen motioned for him to come over to a large stone tablet set into the wall.

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, even though it _was_ sort of flattering to be asked. "Probably not. If it's some sort of ancient dialect…"

But to his surprise he found that he could translate the words with relative ease. "Let me see… _Look upon the Temple of Dumat… God of Silence, who speaks to the faithful in the F_ \- no, _in dreams_ , I think. _No words may sway his will, no cry of valour_ -" He broke off. "It goes on and on, in the same vein. Dumat conquers all, tremble before him, only the worthy may enter… the usual tirade."

"So it _is_ an ancient temple." Cullen looked grim. "I wonder why Samson chose this place. Does this mean he has become a true believer? The man I knew was a cynic, and the only thing he believed in was his own advantage." He shook his head. "Let's see what we'll find inside."

They didn't encounter Samson himself, much to Cullen's disappointment. He had fled, and all he'd left behind was a burning ruin. In the middle of it, they found a young man bearing the mark of the Tranquil on his forehead. Dorian felt a chill race down his spine at the sight.

Cullen seemed to know him, too. "Maddox? What are you doing here? Why-"

They didn't get much information out of the Tranquil. He was already as good as dead, from a poison he'd administered himself. He readily admitted that he'd been the one who'd forged Samson's red lyrium armour, but he was of no help at all in finding a way of dismantling it.

When he had drawn his last, painful breath, Alec shot a quick glance at Dorian, then turned to face Cullen. "Who was he?"

"A mage from the Gallows. In Kirkwall." Cullen looked massively uncomfortable. "Knight-Commander Meredith had us administer the Rite of Tranquility after Samson was caught smuggling love letters for Maddox. The official charge was _corrupting a Templar_ , I believe. Samson was dismissed, of course."

Dorian couldn't keep quiet. "Your Commander had the boy turned into an emotionless husk, because he had written _love letters_? That is insane."

"I know." Cullen's jaw was working furiously. "Believe me, we begged her to revise her judgment. But she wouldn't be swayed. She-" He broke off, rubbing his face wearily. "Let's get back home. There's nothing here for us."

Alec nodded grimly, extending a hand toward Dorian. He allowed himself to be led off. Soon, the Shrine was out of sight. But the bitter taste in his mouth wouldn't disappear.

* * *

Alec had seen the look on Dorian's face, and he knew the reason for it all too well. _Another mage's life ruined by the tyranny of a Templar._ No wonder Dorian felt hurt and angry. But Alec wasn't about to let him slink off again, like he had after Chateau d'Onterre. This time, he would take care of his beloved, even if that meant not letting him out of his sight.

Dorian badly needed a distraction, so Alec accepted Bull's invitation to join him and the Chargers at the tavern without hesitation. He ordered plain water for both of them, ignoring Dorian's eye roll. Wine wouldn't solve any of their problems.

It took a while, but eventually he felt Dorian relax next to him. Alec liked having him there, liked the way their thighs rubbed against each other, so close he could feel Dorian's warmth, breathe in his scent. He liked it even better when Dorian tentatively put an arm around his waist to support his back on the wobbly bench. Alec knew Dorian was wary about touching him in public, but they were at Skyhold, among friends, and there was no reason to worry. Bull and the Chargers certainly didn't mind. More than once, Alec caught one of them glancing affectionately in their direction. Krem winked at him when their eyes met, and even Grim raised his tankard in a mute salute.

There was one person who didn't appreciate Alec and Dorian getting cosy, though. When Riona showed up for her evening shift, her eyes narrowed at the sight of them. Alec sighed internally. He hadn't been to the tavern in Dorian's company since the night he'd kissed the girl, and they had never really talked about what had happened back then.

Alec was relieved when Riona ignored him and fell into her usual banter with Bull, eventually settling on the Qunari's lap, but he couldn't help but notice that her laughter sounded a little forced. Bull himself seemed less enthusiastic than usual, his hand sliding up to cup her breast in an almost absent-minded way.

And then he suddenly froze in motion, his eyes fixed on the doorway, and Alec followed his gaze to find Scout Harding standing there. She'd clearly been about to join them, but now her sweet little face went pale and she swivelled around on her heels and disappeared. Bull made an odd little noise, but didn't move.

"Chief!" Krem's voice was the acoustic equivalent of a sharp kick to the skin, and it had pretty much the same effect. His eyes were flashing with indignation as he motioned with his thumb toward the door.

Alec half expected Bull to shrug it off, but instead, the Qunari nodded and whispered a few words in Riona's ear, pushing her off his lap. Then he got to his feet without another word and followed Harding outside.

"Well, well." Dorian raised an eyebrow. "I hadn't figured you for a matchmaker, Aclassi."

Krem grunted, reaching for his tankard. "Chief's a bit daft when it comes to women. Got his head full of all this nonsense the Qun teaches. You know, sex is just a release of tension, no feelings involved, yadda, yadda." He took a deep sip. "That's all well and good, but Harding's different. Girl's the best thing that's ever happened to him, and I won't let him mess it up. She doesn't deserve to be treated like that."

Dorian chuckled softly. "Bull is lucky to have you."

"We all are." Alec felt a surge of warmth in his belly, as he raised his glass and smiled at Krem.

Whatever else the Inquisition had managed to accomplish so far, or yet would in the future, there could be no doubt that they all had grown to be friends. His close-knit little company of misfits had grown impossibly dear to him in the past months. If he had to face a monster like Corypheus, at least he didn't have to do it alone, and that was an immense comfort.

They had a few more glasses and played several rounds of Wicked Grace, but eventually Dorian gently squeezed Alec's thigh under the table. " _Amatus_. Time to withdraw to your quarters, don't you think?" His voice was low, but his tone was confident and relaxed.

"Good idea. I'm knackered." Alec allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Good night, everyone. Have fun."

The chorus of replies followed them out into the courtyard as they wandered off through the darkness. In the corner behind the tavern, Alec's sharp eyes spotted Bull's massive silhouette, seated on a tree trunk, with Harding curled up on his lap. The sight brought another smile to his lips.

"Alec?" Dorian was smiling, too. "Come on. It's getting late."

Arm in arm, they crossed the yard, with the moon shining down benignly upon them. And for a little while, it was easy to believe that all would turn out well in the end.

* * *

"You're still angry about what happened at the Shrine." Cassandra propped herself up on one elbow and gently tried to smooth out the deep lines on Cullen's forehead with her thumb. They wouldn't disappear, of course. _If only it was so easy to chase away his demons._

Everyone had been in a hurry to withdraw to their quarters after their return to Skyhold. It hadn't been a pleasant experience for any of them. Bull had headed straight for the Tavern and the familiar company of the Chargers, and Alec had followed suit, one arm placed protectively around a shaken-looking Dorian. Cassandra herself had only taken the time for the bare necessities – taking off her armour, a quick meal, a hurried bath – before making her way up to Cullen's place.

He hadn't wanted to talk, that much had been obvious. Instead, he'd practically dragged her up the ladder and into his bed, where he had made love to her with a furious determination that had been exciting, but also a little worrying. Now he seemed to have settled down a little. But his eyes still had a faraway look, as if he was lost in old memories.

"I was hoping to finally get hold of Samson." His right hand briefly tightened into a fist.

"I'll bring him to you. Sooner or later." She caught his gaze, willing him to believe her. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I do. Of course I do." For a moment, a smile flitted over his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. "And I know Samson will get what he deserves. It's just… I didn't expect to run into Maddox there."

"Will you tell me more about the two of them?" Cassandra placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

Cullen sighed so deeply she felt his whole body vibrate. "I knew Samson quite well, back in Kirkwall. He wasn't a bad man. Not a bad Templar either, though he had a reputation for being lax about the rules. He used to run errands for the mages on the side, trivial matters, but Meredith was strict about that kind of thing. After his dismissal, things got bad for him. He was reduced to begging in the streets, unable to overcome his lyrium addiction." He swallowed hard. "It's no wonder he turned to Corypheus, really. A ready source of lyrium, an honoured position as a general… it must have seemed like a dream come true."

Cassandra nodded. "Yes. That makes sense. But what about the Tranquil?"

"Maddox." Cullen sighed again. "He was a good lad. He used to work the forge and do repairs, even before he got made Tranquil. Samson liked him, said it was nice to see him take so much joy in his work. He must have rescued him from the Gallows at some point after Meredith's death. Our reports say Samson's set of armour is well-nigh indestructible, and that sure sounds like Maddox' handiwork. They were… friends, of a sort."

"A Templar and a Tranquil." Cassandra snorted softly. "An unlikely friendship."

"It was wrong, what we did to Maddox. A crime." Cullen's breathing had sped up. "Meredith had him made Tranquil as a punishment, because he was in love, because he didn't follow her rules. That's not how it's meant to be. Tranquility… it's meant to be a mercy, a last resort for those too weak to fend off demons by themselves."

"It should, yes." Cassandra had a hard time hiding her own bitterness at his words. "But the Rite has always been abused, right from the beginning. You remember the book we brought back from Caer Oswin? The secrets of the Order of Seekers?"

He nodded quietly. She'd told him all about it back then, of course, and like her, he'd been shocked by what she'd found.

Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up in agitation. "The lies, the secrecy… Maker, Cullen, they deceived us in such a horrible manner. The very people who had sworn their lives and loyalty to the Order! To think that they made us Tranquil during our initiation without ever _telling_ us-"

"I know. It's unforgivable." His grip around her shoulders tightened and he swallowed convulsively. "Cassandra, I… I've trusted in the Maker and Andraste all my life, but sometimes I don't know what to believe anymore. If all of it was just lies, the Templars, the Seekers, all that talk of watching over the mages and protecting them… What did they _do_ to us?"

"They betrayed our trust." Cassandra found and held his gaze. She wouldn't lie to him, not even to comfort him. "They fed you lyrium, and me lies. They pretended to give us purpose and guidance, and ended up leading us astray. And yet…" She took a deep breath. "Maybe all is not lost. Maybe there is a chance for reform, a way to build a better future. A future that includes Templars and Seekers but-" She stopped, unsure of how to proceed, but he understood her well enough.

"Maybe there is." His voice had turned soft. "Here, with you in my arms, I can almost believe it." Cupping her cheek tenderly, he breathed a kiss on her lips. "Sleep now, love. You look tired."

"You, too." Maker, he was right. She was bone-deep exhausted, and she felt safe with him, safe and warm. It was time to rest.


	29. Chapter 29

Cullen was having a nightmare, and some part of him knew it, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. He was trapped inside the dream, inside this horrible feeling of inevitability where he had to act out whatever horrors the Fade chose to inflict on him. And there was no way to escape, no way to wake up, no matter how much he thrashed and tossed around in a desperate attempt to rouse himself from sleep.

_Cassandra was tied up, kneeling before him, her eyes wide with horror as he marched toward her, wielding the branding iron like a spear._

_"Cullen, no!" Her voice was barely a whisper. It cut straight to his heart, but at the same time he knew he had to do it._

_He was a Templar and it was his sacred duty to grant her the mercy of a quiet mind. Behind him, the Revered Mother was muttering the last words of the Rite of Tranquility. Inhaling deeply, he stood over her and raised the branding iron, deliberately closing his ears to her pleas._

_"Cullen!" Cassandra was begging now, but he had to remain strong._

_She screamed when the brand touched her skin, in pain and despair, and the smell of her burnt flesh filled his nostrils. Already, her eyes were glazing over, but suddenly, someone was grabbing his shoulder from behind. He whirled around and-_

He almost knocked her out with this flailing arm, just about managed to soften the blow, but even so, Cassandra cried out sharply as his hand connected with her cheek.

"Oh Maker, I'm so sorry." He was wide awake in an instant, feeling too mortified for words. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. You were having a nightmare." She brushed aside his apologies, but he could see the red mark on her cheek and it made him feel like a monster. "Honestly, Cullen, it's all good. It's not your fault."

He realized he was panting, and his skin felt clammy with sweat. Quickly, he got to his feet and headed to the water bucket in the corner to wash. The icy water did him good, restored some of the balance in his mind, but the memory of the dream was still far too vivid when he turned back to face her.

Cassandra had watched him quietly. "Are they usually this bad?"

Shifting a little to the side, she lifted the blanket invitingly, and he gladly took advantage of her offer, sliding back under the covers with her. It was nice and warm there, and her skin was soft and silky against his.

"No." He avoided her gaze, but then he plucked up his courage and forced himself to look at her. "This one was… particularly graphic. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She slowly traced the lines of his face with her long, graceful fingers. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Just… be here. Hold me." He pulled her closer and she felt so good that, much to his astonishment, he felt a stirring of desire. "Kiss me."

She smiled. "Gladly."

Her lips found his and the dream lost his power, its icy grasp driven away by the fire she lit inside him, that soft, pulsing heat spreading from his groin, racing through his veins. Again, and again he kissed her, and he couldn't get enough of her lips, of her warmth, her scent, her _taste_.  

Gasping, he rolled over with her and began to move lower, eager for the salty sweetness of her skin, enchanted by the helpless little noises she made in her throat. _So_ _delicious_.

His mouth found a nipple, and he greedily sucked it in, twirling his tongue around it. Cassandra cried out again, arching her back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held his head exactly where she wanted it. Not that he was going to argue, because he loved this so much, the way he could feel her body respond to his caresses, the way her nails dug ever so slightly into his scalp as she urged him on.

She whined when he pulled back, but he had to have more, had to taste all of her. His lips mapped a trail down her stomach, through the fine web of scars there, testimony to a life spent fighting the forces of evil. When he placed a soft kiss between her legs, she gasped hard.

"Cullen. You don't have to-"

"I know." With a small, soothing noise in the back of his throat, he bent down to kiss her again, letting his tongue flutter against her most sensitive places.

"Oh Maker!" Her head flew back and her nails dug deeply into his wide shoulders.

Shivering with instinctive pride, he did it again, and again, slowly at first, but then he lost all restraint and buried his face deep inside her heat, dizzy from the scent and taste of her arousal. _So good_. Cassandra was moaning, begging, too far gone for any sense of propriety and it thrilled him beyond measure that he could do this to her, that he could give her this. His own erection was pressing into the sheets, but he ignored the discomfort, because this was about her, not about him, about her pleasure and-

"Stop." Somehow she had managed to pull back his head so she could look into his face. "Cullen, please. I want you."

And she was dragging him up, into her arms, kissing him fiercely despite the stickiness on his face, and before he could even think he was already sliding inside her, deep and fast.

He almost lost it. It was a close call, and he actually _whined_ at the effort of keeping still. He wanted to move so badly, to pound into her, lose himself to her heat. But Cassandra kept him in an iron grip, her strong legs locked around his waist to keep him from moving. "Wait."

Cullen nodded, shivering all over. He had to draw several deep breaths before he could trust himself again, but Maker, it was worth it, if only because he regained his senses enough to see the expression on her face, so full of love and tenderness. "Cassandra. I love you so much."

Instead of an answer, she pulled him into another kiss, and _now_ he allowed himself to move, letting instinct take over. And she was with him, every step of the way, her body moving in time with his, her hands on his back, guiding him deeper and deeper inside her, her eyes locked with his. It was incredibly intense and wonderful, and there was no need to hold back, no need to be gentle and considerate. Because this was Cassandra, who was just as strong as he was, just as tough and fierce.

Just as passionate, too. He'd always suspected that there was heat below that calm, collected exterior of hers, and now, as she was urging him on, pleading in harsh whispers for _deeper, harder, more_ , he knew he'd been right about her. She could match him, stroke for stroke, kiss for kiss. Her skin was hot and slick with sweat, her eyes burning with want and when he pushed her over the edge with one last, hard thrust, she screamed in his arms, rough and hoarse.

And Cullen forgot about everything. For one long, blissful moment, he forgot where he was, who he was, what he was supposed to do. Duty, honour, the Order, everything ceased to exist as he poured himself into her, shaking with the force of pleasure tearing through his body. And finally, he felt as if the thirst that had plagued him all his life had been sated. Here, with her, in her arms, he felt happy and at peace. Here, he was home.

* * *

Alec had never understood his mother's enthusiasm for gardening. She used to spend hours patiently cultivating various herbs and overseeing the maids tending to the vegetable patch, and her flowers had been her pride and joy. As a boy he'd never seen the point of all this trouble – as if there weren't enough shrubs and wild flowers out in the forest and meadows surrounding the manor.

But he had learned to appreciate the serene atmosphere of Skyhold's little patch of arable land. At Leliana's suggestion, he'd had it turned into a Chantry Garden, a place of rest and reflection, and the gardeners had done an admirable job despite the challenges of the mountain climate. Many of the fortress's inhabitants came here to meditate, or simply to enjoy a moment of peace.

This morning, as he crossed the garden on his way to the chapel where he hoped to find Cullen, he was surprised to hear a bright peal of laughter. A child, from the sound of it, and indeed, only moments later, he saw the boy, Morrigan's son. Kieran was watching the antics of a small squirrel that had made its home in a hazel tree, with a smile of pure delight on his pale little face. Morrigan was there, too, glancing at her son with an expression of indulgent tenderness that sat oddly on her haughty features.

"Lady Morrigan. Kieran." Alec inclined his head in a polite greeting. "I trust you both are well?"

He hadn't actually spoken to Morrigan a lot since she'd come to Skyhold. Not that he objected to her presence. Her skill and knowledge promised to be valuable assets in their fight against Corypheus, and even if the darkspawn magister was on the retreat now according to Cullen's reports, he was by no means beaten yet. Besides, Celene had personally named Morrigan as her liaison with the Inquistion, and one didn't object to the Empress's suggestions. Though Alec rather suspected that Celene's wishes had played less of a role than Morrigan's own desires. The witch didn't strike him as someone who would be ordered around.

The boy smiled at him. "We're fine, thanks. Did you see that squirrel? Wasn't it awesome?"

"Yes, it was." Alec couldn't help but smile back. "Just remember not to feed it. If you give them food, they will start relying on you for it and stop gathering it themselves. Besides, once they start begging they become a pain in the-" He glanced at Morrigan and quickly corrected himself. "A nuisance, I mean."

"I didn't know that." Kieran looked impressed. "You're awfully nice, for someone who kills a lot."

"Well, thank you." Alec didn't bother to hide his amusement. "I try to kill only the bad guys, you know."

"Kieran. Where are your manners?" Morrigan's gentle tone belied her sharp words. Turning to Alec, she gracefully inclined her head. "I apologize on my son's behalf, Inquisitor."

"No need." Alec just barely resisted the urge to ruffle the kid's hair affectionately, remembering how much he'd hated that kind of thing as a boy. "He's as free to speak his mind as anybody else in Skyhold. And he's not wrong, after all."

Really, the boy's frankness was quite refreshing. Besides, Alec hadn't realized it before, but some part of him missed having kids around. Back home, he hadn't been able to walk two steps without stumbling over a toddler or being pranked by one of his older nieces and nephews. Whereas here, it was rare to see anyone under the age of conscription. Of course, Skyhold was hardly an ideal place to bring up kids... With a sigh he returned his attention to Morrigan and Kieran.

They had been silently communicating while he was lost in thought, he realized, by looks and gestures, and Kieran looked suitably chastened, his expression carefully polite and attentive. He really was quite well-behaved, and he seemed bright for his age, too. Alec was reminded of the rumours he'd heard about the child, from Leliana, among others. Something about him being a vessel for an Old God, begotten through some arcane ritual. Of course that was probably just gossip. After all, any child of Morrigan's was bound to be different from the norm, no matter who had fathered him.

Whatever one chose to believe, there could be no doubt that she loved the boy. It was evident in the proud yet tender look she gave him before sending him on his way. "Off to your lessons now. I need to talk to the Inquisitor."

"Of course, Mother." The child winked at Alec and was already gone.

Morrigan turned her golden-eyed gaze on him. "Will you come with me? There's something I need to show you."

He followed her across the garden to a small, deserted hallway in a hidden corner of the fortress. She kept talking while she led the way, without bothering to turn her head and look back at him. "You may have wondered why Corypheus has fled to the Arbor Wilds, of all places."

"He seems to have a predilection for ancient elven ruins." Alec did his best to sound confident. If he was honest, he found Morrigan rather intimidating. "We know that much at least."

"But you don't know why." Even though he couldn't see her face, he was sure she was smiling smugly. "Fortunately, I can assist you."

Alec had to fight back the urge to make faces at her back. That would be childish, after all, and besides, he had a feeling she would know. "What is he looking for, then?"

"Something ancient and dangerous. ‘Tis best if I show you." Morrigan motioned for him to follow her into a deserted chamber.

It contained a mirror. A huge mirror, elven from the looks of it, and quite obviously magic. Alec didn't need magical talent to notice that fact, given the strange swirling mist covering its surface.

"This is an eluvian." There was obvious pride in Morrigan's voice as she pointed at the mirror. "There's another one in the Arbor Wilds, hidden away in an ancient elven temple. That second one is the artefact Corypheus seeks."

Alec sighed. "Let me guess. It can't fall into his hands or the world will end, right? What does it do?"

At a gesture from Morrigan, the swirling surface turned purple and appeared to soften and become permeable.

"A portal _._ " He wasn't even aware he had spoken the words aloud until Morrigan shot him an amused glance.

"Well spotted, Inquisitor." Without hesitation, she walked toward the mirror. "Come on. Don't you want to know where it leads? Or are you afraid of the unknown?"

Her mocking tone was more than he could bear. Cursing softly under his breath, Alec stepped through the portal, right behind her.

* * *

"What in Thedas possessed you to go with her?" Dorian was so furious he could hardly speak. "Time and again I've told you that woman is not to be trusted. She is dangerous. She could have-"

"Calm down." Alec's insouciant grin only served to incense him further. "I'm a big boy, Dorian. I can handle her. And really, it was fascinating."

"Maybe it was, but that doesn't change the fact that it was a crazy thing to do." Dorian could have grabbed and shaken him. "You can't _handle_ a witch like Morrigan. She's incredibly powerful, and her magic is unlike anything I've ever seen." He'd sensed it right from the start. Morrigan's aura was completely different from the Circle mages, much less defined, less… domesticated. It felt wild, _feral_ , in a way he couldn't describe to Alec, and it scared him.

"But that's just it, Dorian." Alec sounded elated. "The place she took me to… I'd never even imagined such a thing could exist. Honestly, you would have adored it if you'd been there with me."

"Tell me about it, then." With a resigned sigh, Dorian settled down in his favorite armchair to listen to Alec's description.

It _did_ sound incredible. A crossroads, a place between worlds, made from the very fabric of space and time. Incredibly old, incredibly alien. Yes, Dorian would have _loved_ to have seen it, to explore it, to understand its nature and discover its secrets. The mere thought of what could be learned from studying it made him dizzy.

At the same time, much as it pained him to admit it, Morrigan was right. Corypheus had to be prevented from entering the Crossroads, at all costs. It didn't bear thinking about what could happen if a monster like him had access to such a place. A gateway to different worlds… It would give him the power to unleash even greater evils on even more innocent people. No. They had to take care of this, and soon.

"If all this is true…" Dorian did his best to remain calm, even though his heart was beating wildly. "Isn't it dangerous to keep the eluvian here at Skyhold, then? It's like an unguarded back door."

"That's exactly what I told Morrigan." Alec went down on his knees on the rug next to him and took his hand, as if he wanted to reassure him that everything was all right. "But according to her, she alone holds the key to this particular eluvian. It should be safe."

"For a given value of _safe_." Dorian shook his head. "I don't like this, _amatus_. I'm not comfortable with placing so much trust in the witch. She has her own agenda, I'm sure of it."

Alec's grip on his hand tightened. "What choice do we have? We can't afford to ignore her advice. It's our most promising course of action right now. At least one thing is certain." For a moment, he looked terribly young and scared. "The time for procrastinating is over. Finally, we're going to take the fight to Corypheus himself."

"Yes." Dorian's heart skipped another beat as he pulled Alec even closer. "And may the Maker help us all!"


	30. Chapter 30

"Oh Maker." Still gasping for breath, Cassandra sank back on the bed, stretching out at Cullen's side. "That was… incredible. Mind-blowing. Breath-taking"

Cullen chuckled softly. "You flatter me." He, too, was panting, his skin flushed and his chest covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"No." She shook her head, gazing at him earnestly. "Really, it was amazing. And you know, I have to confess, when we first made love, I didn't expect-" She broke off, suddenly worried he might be offended.

"What didn't you expect?" To her relief, he looked more amused than anything, his lips twitching slightly as he propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. "That it would be amazing?"

"No! Well… yes, but, I didn't…" Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up. "All I meant is… You've been a Templar all your life, and yet you're rather… skilled when it comes to giving a woman pleasure."

"You think?" Cullen looked pleased and proud, and combined with his tousled hair, it made him seem strangely young, like a schoolboy who had been praised beyond his expectations. "Thank you."

"But how-" Maker, her face had to be flaming red by now. "Never mind."

"No, it's all right. I don't mind telling you." He shrugged, his expression more serious now. "It's true, I joined the Order when I was but a boy, but I never took a vow of celibacy. Some of the recruits did, but I didn't…" It was his turn to blush. "I didn't feel that I was called to that. Anyway, there were plenty of opportunities, while I was stationed at Kinloch. The mages were off-limits, of course, but the Knight-Commander turned a blind eye to any other activities. And there were always willing servant girls or farm wenches."

"Were there?" Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "It seems improbable that they were all as enthusiastic as you say. And even if, surely their menfolk can't have been happy about that state of affairs?"

"Well, if the Templar in question was reasonably attractive and kind, would it really be so hard to imagine that a girl would enjoy his attentions?" Cullen coughed briefly. "And as for the men, well, certain local superstitions may have worked in our favour. You see, there's a widely held belief in that part of Ferelden that sleeping with a Templar can cure infertility."

"And I wonder who sowed that belief." Cassandra shook her head disapprovingly. "I mean, I can see how it would work, especially if the problems were on the husband's side. Still, you'd think a farmer would be able to discover the logical flaw in the theory."

Cullen nodded. "I think they knew, on some level. It was a pragmatic way of looking at things. The farm needs an heir, and sometimes it's best not to ask too many questions." Once again, he cleared his throat. "Look, it's not something I'm proud of. But I was young and hot-blooded and everybody was doing it, even the senior Templars. I just didn't think... anyway, it all ended when I was transferred to the Free Marches. Things were different in Kirkwall."

"I imagine Meredith was quite strict." Cassandra hadn't heard much good of the woman, but surely-

"Yes and no." Cullen's face looked pained. "She was only too ready to punish the mages for small indiscretions, as you've seen with Maddox. As for the Templars… Lots of them were frequent customers at the Blooming Rose. Which was at least preferable to them preying on the mages in their care. Maybe that was Meredith's rationale for turning a blind eye to their adventures. But I can assure you I never-" He shifted uncomfortably, clearly unhappy to have been reminded of his time in Kirkwall.

"It's fine." She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "You're under no obligation to tell me everything about your past. All that's over and done with. I was just curious."

Cullen looked relieved. "I guess you're right. We'd better focus on the present. Maker knows, I'm going to have enough on my plate in the days to come. We need to assemble our troops and strike quickly, if we want to prevent Corypheus from reaching the eluvian first."

"Yes." Cassandra nodded. "I heard Celene will be sending a contingent of chevaliers to help us?"

"Hm. Can't say I look forward to having a bunch of Orlesians fighting at our side." Cullen sniffed disapprovingly. "There's bound to be trouble with our Fereldan soldiers. I'd better make sure Threnn stays behind."

"Good point." Cassandra couldn't quite suppress a shiver at the thought of their former quartermaster singing Teyrn Loghain's praises in the presence of some proud young hotheads from Val Royeaux. "But still, it's good to see Celene honouring her promises."

"The Empress owes us her life. This is the least she can do." Cullen still sounded grumpy. "But, I guess you're right. We can use any help we can get. Corypheus' Red Templars are not to be underestimated, and they'll be desperate now that we're taking the battle to them. Of course, we'll also have a contingent of mages, but even so-"

"We can defeat them. I'm sure of it." She did her best to sound confident. "And I am personally going to get Samson for you."

Cullen nodded grimly. "Take him alive, if you possibly can. He has valuable information, and I am going to get it out of him, one way or the other."

"No." Cassandra felt her lips set in a thin line. "Not 'one way or the other'. I won't let you resort to torture. We're better than that."

"You're right. Again." He smiled at her, a little ruefully, and took her hand, placing it against his cheek.  "Thank you, Cassandra. Once again, you're guarding my conscience."

"And I will continue doing so, for as long as you allow it." She caught his gaze and held it. "I promise."

* * *

Alec got to his feet with a muffled curse, brushing dust and ashes from his leather coat. Quickly, he glanced around to check that all his companions were safe. Dorian was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, and Cassandra's armour was singed in places, but otherwise they all looked unharmed, as did Morrigan and Bull.

He exhaled shakily. "Well. That was a little too close for comfort."

His ears were still ringing from the roar of Corypheus's dragon, and if it weren't for the massive temple doors, welded shut by the beast's fiery breath, they'd all be dead now. _Blight it! We should have been better prepared. There must be a way to handle that monster._ After all, they had killed several dragons by now, and they had a fair idea of how to deal with them.

However, this particular specimen was still beyond their capabilities, as Alec well knew, especially when accompanied by its master. From what they had just observed, Corypheus wasn't just incredibly strong – he simply couldn't be killed. At all.

"What in Thedas happened out there? How can Corypheus still be alive?" Dorian echoed his thoughts.

"Apparently he can take over a new body if he is killed." Even Cassandra looked pale. "How are we supposed to defeat such a creature?"

"There may be a way." Morrigan had kept in the background so far. "But first of all we need to explore this place further, before Corypheus interferes again."

Alec nodded. For the first time since the doors had fallen shut behind them, he took the time to look around him, and he had to admit the sight was stunning. The temple of Mythal was huge, its ancient walls soaring high above them, a testament to the greatness of a long-gone elven civilization. Alec swallowed. It was hard to reconcile this impressive edifice with his memories of the elves he'd known all his life. They'd been poor downtrodden creatures for the most part, without hope or spirit, glad for the scraps the humans tossed them.

The peaceful serene atmosphere surrounding them was sharply at odds with the carnage they'd left behind outside. Mythal's ancient temple was sublimely beautiful, despite its ruined state, or maybe because of it. Gnarly trees growing in deserted courtyards, flowering vines twining around crumbling columns, twittering birds nesting high up among the eaves and cornices – it all combined to lend the place an ethereal, timeless charm.

"All right. Let's proceed." For once, Cassandra seemed in agreement with Morrigan. "Samson can't have gotten far. If we hurry-"

"Wait a moment." Dorian was eyeing Morrigan with more than his usual amount of distrust. "You said Corypheus was looking for an eluvian, but he spoke of a _Well of Sorrows_."

"Well, maybe I was wrong. Does it matter now?" Morrigan was clearly uncomfortable with his questioning, trying to brush him off quickly. "We have to stop him, no matter what he seeks."

Alec saw Dorian open his mouth to contradict, but he stopped him with a decisive gesture. "She's right." He mouthed a silent apology in Dorian's direction. "We can't waste time arguing now. But we _are_ going to talk later."

They made their way through the temple complex, which proved more complicated than they had expected. Morrigan was full of advice, delivered in her usual patronizing tone, and more than once Alec was sorely tempted to throw it all to the wind, ignore the convoluted elven rites and formalities, and head straight for the temple's inner sanctum. Because surely that was where they needed to be, that was where they would find Samson, and that _well_ , whatever it was.

" _Amatus_? Are you all right?" They had stopped for a rest in an overgrown hallway, after yet another painstakingly executed ritual, and Alec had collapsed on a tree trunk, grateful for the chance to lean his weary head against a stone pillar and close his eyes for a moment. He opened them to find Dorian regarding him with a worried frown.

"I'm fine." He forced himself to smile. "Just day-dreaming."

"Oh, really?" Dorian quickly glanced around to make sure the others weren't too close and they wouldn't be overheard. "Tell me about that dream of yours, then."

His playful tone made Alec's heart skip a beat. "Well, you remember that waterfall we passed out in the Wilds? The one with the pretty little pool below it, and the trees hiding it from view?"

"I remember." Dorian's moustache vibrated ever so slightly, as if he was suppressing a grin. "The attacking templars were a bit of a distraction, but yes, it was a charming place."

Alec met his eyes, and for a heartbeat, he forgot about everything going on around them. "I'd love to take you there, once this is all over. We could go swimming and maybe-" The picture forming in his mind made his throat go tight. Dorian naked under the cascading water, glistening droplets running down his chest, his back arched in pleasure as Alec embraced him from behind and-

But of course the moment didn't last. Cassandra called them over to inspect some inscription and Dorian offered him his hand to help him get up, chuckling softly. "Well, I wouldn't mind coming back here with you at a more peaceful time, _amatus_ ," he muttered under his breath. "Though I bet the water would be freezing cold."

"Stop being reasonable. You're spoiling my lovely fantasy with your pesky facts." Alec grinned back. "Now, what is it, Cassandra? More elven mysteries?"

* * *

_I knew it! I knew she couldn't be trusted!_ Dorian was so mad at Morrigan, he had trouble keeping his agitation from showing. When the witch had turned into an owl and set off toward their goal on her own, his fingers had itched to take her down with a well-placed lightning bolt. He'd already raised his staff, when Alec had stopped him with a gesture. Which was a good thing, actually, because there was no knowing how Abelas and his sentinel elves, sworn guardians of the well, would have reacted to such a violent display.

But, really, it was maddening! After they'd gone through all this trouble observing the ancient elven customs on their way through the temple, that blasted swamp witch had nearly ruined it all. It was probably only thanks to Alec's honest open face that Abelas had still agreed to take them to the well.

It was almost a relief when they ran into Samson and Dorian could channel his fury into the battle. No matter what else could be said about him, Corypheus' general was a worthy opponent. Despite Cassandra's dogged determination, he held out for the longest time, protected by the armour his Tranquil friend had made for him. They wouldn't have stood a chance without the rune Dagna had crafted for them. When he finally went to the ground, Cassandra stood over him like an avenging spirit, the tip of her sword pressed to his throat. And still he was screaming invectives at her, invoking the power of his master, until she silenced him with a quick blow to his temple with her shield's edge.

Dorian was still reeling from what he'd told them about Corypheus' plans to turn him into a 'vessel' for the wisdom imparted by the Well of Sorrows. A well that held, as Abelas explained, the combined knowledge and consciousness of countless priests of Mythal. Dorian shook his head. Such inconceivable hubris on Samson's part, to even dare imagine that he'd be worthy of such a gift!

Of course, Morrigan was just the same. He listened in stunned silence as she imperiously demanded the privilege of drinking from the well. When Abelas declared that he'd rather destroy it than give its power to the undeserving, Dorian found himself nodding along.

And yet… If the well's wisdom would help them defeat Corypheus, as the witch claimed, what choice did they have but to try? They certainly had no other hope of vanquishing an immortal. Dorian watched Alec's face as he earnestly argued with Abelas, begging him to reconsider. He saw the sincere regret in Alec's eyes, heard the heartfelt awe and respect in his tone, almost physically felt his desperate need to find a way to overcome the evil magister, to save them all.

Abelas must have seen the same, because in the end, he relented. Dorian watched him depart with a heavy heart. It made him ache inside to witness this scene, the swan song of a dying civilization. He hardly paid attention to Alec's heated debate with Morrigan about who should drink from the well, and only took notice when he heard his own name from his beloved's lips.

"What about you, Dorian?" Alec repeated. "Do you wish to drink from it?"

He shook his head decisively. "No, _amatus_. I am grateful for your trust in me, but… A human from Tevinter scooping up the last bits of elven knowledge? That would be wrong on so many levels… No, I can't be that man. And besides, I wouldn't want to take the risk. Who knows what price I'd have to pay."

"True." Alec thoughtfully rubbed his face. " _Bound forever to the will of Mythal_ , Abelas said. Well, I guess if that doesn't scare you…" He nodded at Morrigan. "Go ahead. Drink."


	31. Chapter 31

"What was that all about?" As the mirror's surface coalesced behind them, Alec turned to face Morrigan. He sincerely hoped he didn't look as dumbfounded as he felt. "So… Mythal is really your mother? The Witch of the Wilds is an elven goddess?"

Morrigan sighed. "'Tis complicated. I can explain, but not now. All of this will have to wait for a later time."

Alec felt his lips set in a thin line. Some part of him was honestly mad at Morrigan for all her deceptions and machinations. She _had_ lied about the well, and he felt as if he ought to call her out on it. But at the same time, he was hesitant to confront her. He really didn't want to make an enemy of her, especially not now, when she might well be the only one who could help him defeat Corypheus and his dragon.

"Now we have more pressing matters to attend to." It was as if she'd read his mind. "Thanks to the wisdom imparted by the well, I am confident that I will be able to match Corypheus' dragon. Now all _you_ need to do is find him."

_Ha! Easier said than done_. Alec didn't bother with a reply, just nodded at her and headed for the door. He still couldn't make head nor tails of what had happened at the Temple of Mythal, and afterwards, in the Fade, where they'd met Morrigan's mother, the witch Flemeth. Or Mythal, if what she’d said was true. Alec sighed.

Dorian might understand it better than he did. But when Alec went to seek him out in the library, he was wholly engrossed in a hefty volume on the influence of elven magic on early Tevinter ritual, and Alec didn't have the heart to disturb him. Though Dorian probably wouldn't have minded being interrupted, considering the tale Alec had to tell.

But no, he needed some quiet time first, he decided, a chance to think things through before he talked about them. Instinctively, he headed for the rooftops, where there was little chance of being disturbed by one of his companions.

For a little while at least, that assumption held true. With a happy sigh, Alec stretched out on the sun-warmed tiles to gaze up at the clear blue sky. It was good to be here, all alone, high above the bustling activity, good to have a chance to empty his mind and just be. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so he wasn't cold, and it was nice to just let things flow past him for once, with no one making any demands on him.

It didn't last long, of course. After an hour or so, he heard the ladder creak behind him. His hand went to his dagger in a purely instinctual reaction, but he relaxed immediately when he heard Sera's odd little laugh.

"Whoa. It's just me, yeah? No need to get your knickers in a twist." Sera sounded affectionate rather than offended, though, and she winked at him as she settled at his side. "'Cept you don't wear any, right?"

"Knickers?" Alec grinned back. "Of course I do. Dorian likes them red and lacy, you know."

"Ewww!" For a split second, she actually fell for it, but then his expression gave him away and her small fist connected sharply with his ribs. "Ah, no! You were pulling my leg, bugger it! You've got some nerve!"

By the time Alec had finished laughing, he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. "Thanks, Sera. I needed that."

"Yeah, well." She snorted daintily. "Don't have much time for us small folk lately, Your Fabulousness."

"True." He grew serious. "I'm sorry, you know. I-"

"Nah, it's fine." Sera grimaced. "I get it. Saving the world and all. Plus, I bet the Vint keeps you busy." Pursing her lips, she pretended to swoon, adding an incredibly vulgar kissing noise for good measure. "Awwww, look at the two of you, all over each other, having it off at every turn, like bunny rabbits. Makes me wonder how you can still walk."

"Sera!" Alec did his best to look scandalized, but this time, he didn't fool her.

"Pffft. All the lovey-doveyness going on here lately, it's enough to make a girl puke. I mean, who'd have thought it, right? Cullen and Cassandra!" Again, she laughed squeakily. "Her ladyship has her very own Cully-wully now… Makes sense that he'd go for her, though. Lots of men under him, needs a woman over him, yeah?"

Alec did his best to remain serious. "Aw, come on. They deserve a little happiness."

"Ooooh, romantic!" Sera beat her long blonde lashes at him, and it suddenly occurred to Alec that she was really quite cute, once you got past the atrocious haircut and the abrasive demeanour. "Bet Cassandra loves it. Always thought she's not as buttoned up as she plays. Bet they've put that desk to good use, eh?"

Alec shifted uncomfortably, unable to avoid picturing the scene in his mind's eye. Cullen and Cassandra, writhing on that heavy desk, both of them sweaty and trembling with passion… Shit, that _was_ actually kind of hot. True, they were both a little too old for his taste, but they were in good shape, and-

"Gave you ideas, did I?" Sera was watching him with a calculating expression. "Just remembered you have a nice big desk yourself? Your pretty Vint owes me, then."

"Oh, shut up." Alec was sorely tempted to slap the back of her head, but there was a better way to get even. "What about you, Sera? Surely there must be someone you're interested in? One of the scouts maybe? Charter? Or do you prefer dwarves? Harding appears to be taken, but-"

To his surprise, Sera blushed. "Well… now that you mention it, Dagna is cute." There was just enough hesitation to make him realize this was more serious than Sera let on. "Don't tell her I said that!"

"Of course not," he promised solemnly. "But you _are_ going to talk to her, right?"

"I might." A slow smile spread over Sera's expressive features as she met his gaze. "I _just_ might."

* * *

"Ah, dearest Alec. Always the gentleman." Josephine beamed at Alec, who had opened the door for her with a polite little bow and now followed her outside.

Cullen heard them share a laugh, no doubt over some witty observation or juicy bit of gossip. Josephine had always gotten on well with the Inquisitor, right from the start. Maybe she was particularly susceptible to his charm, or maybe it was just in her nature to assume the best of everyone. Either way, she had never regarded Alec with the same amount of distrust as her fellow advisors did. _Turns out she was right about him._ Cullen was deeply impressed with what Alec had achieved, even if the final confrontation with their enemy was still before them.

_We may yet lose it all_. Wearily, Cullen rubbed his neck as he straightened up from bending over the war table. His lower back ached and his eyes burned. Maybe he was getting too old for those hour-long strategy meetings. Or maybe… His mouth twitched involuntarily as he saw Cassandra suppress a yawn. Maybe they just needed to cut down on their nightly activities and make sure they got a good night's sleep for once.

Leliana's sharp eyes missed nothing, of course. "Tired, Commander? Have you had too many late nights lately?" Her tone was heavily laced with innuendo, but he knew better than to be baited and just smiled at her.

Cassandra was less cautious. "Is there anything you wish to insinuate, Leliana?"

"Of course not." Leliana was clearly enjoying herself tremendously. "Though I do wonder what Revered Mother Therèse would think if she knew what her preferred candidate for Divine is up to in her free time."

"Her preferred what?" Cullen hadn't meant to sound so gruff, but he was too surprised to moderate his reaction. "What do you mean?"

"Why, didn't Cassandra mention it?" Leliana's expression was far too round-eyed and innocent to be genuine. "The Revered Mother was here months ago, to invite us both back to Val Royeaux. The Left and the Right Hand of the Divine, to _honour Justinia's memory._ " She underlined her words with the matching gestures. "But Alec put his foot down. The Inquisition's need was more urgent than the Chantry's."

Cullen glanced at Cassandra whose lips had set in a tight line. "I know she wanted you to attend the election. But none of you ever mentioned you were candidates."

"Because it is a preposterous idea!" Cassandra interrupted him, shaking her head impatiently. "To be honest, I was hoping it would be laid quietly to rest if we ignored it. It's ridiculous to assume either of us would make a good Divine."

"Not all that ridiculous." Cullen frowned. Sure, Cassandra was a little too blunt for diplomatic manoeuvres, but apart from that he could all too easily imagine her in such a role. "The Chantry would certainly be hard put to find a more devoted and dedicated candidate than you." He flashed her a brief smile. "But wouldn't the Divine have to be chosen from among the Grand Clerics?"

Leliana shrugged. Her expression was carefully neutral. "There's precedent. The Divine can be chosen from outside the clergy, and it has happened before."

"That doesn't mean it is a good idea this time." Cassandra snorted contemptuously. "Surely they aren't that desperate."

"They may well be." Cullen had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach, but he did his best not to let it show. "With so many dead at the Conclave, the Chantry must be in shambles. It's not surprising to see them turn to you, turn to the Inquisition for help. Maker knows, everybody else does."

"True." Cassandra nodded, looking at him quizzically, as if trying to gauge what he was really thinking.

But he avoided her gaze, unwilling to let her see his inner turmoil. Some part of him wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her not to accept the title if it was offered to her, because he simply couldn't bear the thought of losing her. And at the same time Cullen knew, deep in his heart, that Cassandra could do it if she set her mind to it. She might well be Thedas' best hope for the future, and there was no way he could ask her to give it up if she thought it was the right thing to do. How could he ask her to betray her beliefs, how could he demand she put him first? He had no right, simply no right, and it broke his heart.

"Well, they haven't decided yet, and it's a moot question anyway, if we don't deal with Corypheus first." Leliana's eyes had been darting to and fro between their faces. "Come on. There is much yet to be done."

Cassandra didn't look at him as they left the room, but she took his hand in passing and squeezed it hard, and even that brief contact made his heartbeat speed up. He closed his eyes, forcing them to stay dry. _Maker, please don't take her from me again._

* * *

Alec wasn't in their room when Dorian returned from the library, and it irritated him, though he didn't really know why. He was curious to learn more about what had happened in the Fade, and eager to share what he'd found out about the elven pantheon. And at the same time, he didn't really want to talk, not now.

All he _really_ wanted was to snuggle up in bed with Alec and hold him tight, and forget about the world for a while. Instead, here he was, all by himself, with nothing much to do except staring out of the window into the dark night outside and ponder recent events.

Visiting the Temple had left him both shaken and elated. If it was really true that the Imperium hadn't been responsible for the downfall of the ancient elven kingdom, if the elves of Arlathan had really brought their destruction upon themselves… The consequences of Abelas' revelation were so far-reaching, so staggering that it made him dizzy to think about them. Surely, if the people in Tevinter knew about all of this, it would cause an uproar. But how would they ever learn about it, unless he chose to go back.

"Hey." Alec stepped into the room, smiling shyly at him. "I'm sorry I'm so late."

"Don't be." Turning to face him, Dorian easily melted into his arms. "I've been missing you."

"Me, too." With a deep sigh, Alec closed his eyes and placed his head on Dorian's shoulder. "Bed?"

"By all means." They didn't talk much as they got ready for bed, but when they had extinguished the lights, Dorian found that he couldn't sleep.

He kept tossing and turning until Alec finally turned to face him, reaching out with his hand to trace his features in the darkness. "What's the matter? Anything wrong?"

Dorian sighed, flicking his fingers to conjure a tiny magelight, so they could look each other in the eye. "I should go back. Once this is done."

"To Tevinter?" Alec seemed confused. "Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He felt his jaw clench. "Here I am, complaining about everything that's wrong back home. But if I really want it to change for the better, I'll have to do my part, won't I?"

Alec was silent for a moment, but then he raised his gaze, looking earnestly at Dorian. "Take me with you, then."

He sounded so young, so adorably serious that it tore at Dorian's heartstrings, but nevertheless he shook his head decisively. "No. You would only end up solving it all yourself. After all, that's what you do."

His lame attempt at sounding light-hearted only served to make Alec angry. "Stop that." A deep frown creased his forehead. "You of all people should know I'm not as perfect as you make me out to be. Half of what I've achieved here was sheer dumb luck."

"And you really believe that, don't you?" Dorian shook his head. "Oh, _amatus_. You may not be perfect, but you are… incredibly special. And if anyone had told me I would ever meet someone like you, let alone become his friend-"

"You're far more than just my _friend_ , Dorian!" Alec's eyes looked almost feverish in the dim light. "You're the man I love. You're all I want. All I need. And you have no idea how _much_ I need you. Without you-" He broke off. "But, I have no right to blackmail you like this. Didn't you say you hated this? Emotional blackmail? I apologize."

He looked so dejected that Dorian felt his resolve melt. "You have every right to tell me how you feel. And my decision isn't final yet. Trust me, I don't _want_ to leave you. But, if I do…" He hesitated. "If I do, I'll be thinking of you every waking moment, missing you, wishing I was with you. Never doubt that."

The magelight faded and they embraced tightly. Neither of them spoke any more until they finally fell asleep.


	32. Chapter 32

"Of course it won't be easy to find a suitable candidate, my dear Cassandra." Vivienne thoughtfully steepled her perfectly manicured hands. "Whoever aspires to become Divine should have grace, charm, and a will of solid steel. Not to mention excellent contacts at court and a thorough understanding of the mage problem."

Cassandra had only listened with half an ear as Vivienne droned on and on about the upcoming elections. But something in the former Court Enchanter's tone made her sit up and take notice. _Oh Maker! She's pretty much describing herself there!_

_"_ The Conclave might have to settle for less than that," she said aloud. "None of the Grand Clerics fits the bill, as far as I know."

"Very true." Vivienne inclined her head gracefully in agreement. "Clearly, they are desperate, or they wouldn't even dream of considering unordained women, such as yourself or our dear Leliana. Especially since neither of you is blessed with an abundance of charisma."

Cassandra felt a sting of annoyance at Vivienne's blunt dismissal, and she decided to be just as forthright. "Well, they'd be even less likely to accept a mage, I'm afraid."

To her surprise, Vivienne smiled at this. "It would certainly be a huge leap of faith. Of course, _if_ they could be persuaded, I could hardly say no, couldn't I?"

"Probably not." Cassandra shook her head. "I guess we shall see soon enough."

She kept a carefully straight face as she excused herself, but behind it, her mind was racing. With the Inquisition's support behind her, either outspoken or implied, Vivienne's ambitious plan might even stand a tiny chance. But what if she really became Divine? The formidable Madame de Fer had never made a secret of her desire to reinstate the Circles, and surely, that was not a bad thing in and of itself. In all probability, she would make sure her fellow mages were treated better than they had been in the past. Maybe she wouldn't be such a bad choice, after all.

Yet, Cassandra couldn't deny that she was worried. Vivienne was such a stickler for traditions, and so very ready to sacrifice individuals for the greater good. Could they really afford to leave the Chantry in her hands? And what was the alternative? Would she, Cassandra Pentaghast, be forced to accept an office she didn't want, only to prevent a worse outcome? But no, surely the Chantry would draw the line at electing a mage.

Cassandra snorted impatiently. She would just have to pray fervently that a better candidate would show up in time. There had to be someone, _anyone_ , as long as it wasn't her. Maybe things would have been different before her illusions about her own Order and the Templars had been so cruelly shattered. But the way things were… Oh, she still wanted to help create a better future. Rebuilding the Seekers, without all the lies they'd been founded on; supporting those Templars who were willing to be part of a reformed order, no longer mere jailors relying on lyrium to keep the mages in check – those were worthy goals.

But did she truly have to become Divine to make a difference? Was it really necessary to let herself be bound by the shackles of an age-old office, to sever all her ties to the people she cared about? If she closed her eyes, she could still see the expression on Cullen's face when he'd heard about her possible candidacy. Such fear, such naked pain, such despair lurking behind his eyes! Of course he hadn't asked her to say no. He was far too decent to even try to manipulate her into staying with him. But he hadn't been able to hide his feelings, and they echoed her own so closely that she couldn't blame him.

Cassandra shook her head, realizing that she was trembling all over. _No. Not again. Please, Maker, don't ask this of me._ All her life she had sacrificed her own wishes to the greater good. But now that she had finally found someone to love, someone to build a future with, she couldn't bear giving up her happiness again. Not if they survived the final battle against Corypheus.

* * *

Alec sat up with a wince, grateful for Dorian's steadying arm around his shoulders. Slowly, the fog in his head cleared a little. All around him, people were tending to the wounded, talking in subdued voices, but their faces were shining with joy. _We've won_. Alec swallowed hard, past the dryness in his throat.

The mark on his hand was still pulsing with the aftershocks of whatever it was that had happened when he'd taken the orb from Corypheus. And Maker knew, he had no idea how. The artefact had simply flown into his hand, and without thinking, he'd aimed it at the breach, and the breach… He stared up at the sky, hardly able to believe his eyes. No breach. Just a few stray clouds and sunshine and blue, blue sky. Could it be possible that they had _done_ it?

When the red lyrium dragon had gone down, killed by a mighty blow from Cassandra's sword, Alec had allowed himself to hope for the first time. If they could kill the dragon, they just might have a shot at defeating its master, too. Of course they could never have done it without Morrigan's help. He knew he would never forget _that_ sight: two dragons fighting like angry cats, high up in the sky, until Morrigan had had to give up and revert to her true form. But she had weakened the beast enough for them to prevail.

And Corypheus-

Turning to face Dorian, Alec clutched his beloved's hand tightly. "Is it true? Is he gone? Did we defeat him?"

" _You_ did," Dorian gently corrected him, his eyes shining with pride. "Yes. You somehow banished him with your mark. I have no idea how exactly, but-"

"Me neither." Alec felt a hysterical laugh bubble up in his throat. He still couldn't believe it. "It was the mark that did it. Not I."

And that was nothing but the truth, wasn't it? He wasn't some sort of hero or saviour. All he'd done was show up at the right place at the right time. _Dumb luck, once again_. But then, did it matter? The ultimate evil, the mastermind behind all this death and destruction, was finally vanquished. Corypheus was beaten, they were alive and-

"Where's Cassandra? And Bull? Are they okay?" Anxiously, Alec looked up at Dorian's face, suddenly remembering how Corypheus had tossed them away like rag dolls.

"They'll be fine." Dorian made a small, soothing noise. "Cassandra has a few broken ribs and some nasty bruises, but nothing serious. She's tough. And Bull is complaining a lot, but I don't think he's actually hurt."

"And the others?" Alec's forehead felt hot, almost feverish.

"They are all unharmed and accounted for. Well, except-" Dorian hesitated.

"Who?" Alec had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Solas seems to have disappeared." Dorian sighed. "I was hoping you would enlighten me, actually. I saw him talking to you, before everything dissolved into chaos."

"I'm not sure." Alec shrugged apologetically. "He picked up the broken orb, and he said something about _all the things that had been lost_ , and then he just walked off. I don't think he'll be back."

Alec was mad at himself, to tell the truth. He'd never been comfortable in Solas' presence. Somehow, their conversations had always ended in awkward silences, with Solas regarding him with barely concealed contempt because he had managed to say the wrong thing _again_. So in the end, Alec had just given up and avoided his company. And now he wished he hadn't. If he'd made more of an effort to talk to the elf, to understand him, maybe he wouldn't be quite so clueless as to his motivations now… Maybe-

"You're right." Dorian shook his head. "I doubt we'll see him again." He looked lost in thought.

Suddenly, Alec felt very tired. "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"I beg your pardon?" Dorian was staring at him, his moustache quivering with righteous indignation. "Alec! You just saved the world! You have _nothing_ , nothing at all to apologize for." Still shaking his head, he tightened his grip around Alec's waist. "Can you get up? We should return home."

"Yes." Haltingly, Alec got to his feet, and allowed himself to be led away from the makeshift field hospital, away from the battlefield.

And suddenly they were surrounding him, all of them, Cullen and Cassandra, and Bull and Harding, and the Chargers, and all the others, alive and well. And they were cheering at the sight of him, of _him_ , Alec Trevelyan, that feckless, good-for-nothing wastrel, always up to his ears in trouble. His head spun for a moment, and the urge to run was there again. But he felt Dorian's gaze on his neck, warm and supportive, and instinctively he stood up straight.

"Come, my friends." He was surprised how firm and confident his voice sounded. "Let's go back to Skyhold. It's time to celebrate our victory."

* * *

The sun was setting over Skyhold, and it was a glorious sight, made even more heartrendingly beautiful by the fact that the sky was whole again. Dorian was sure he would never get enough of the feeling of happy accomplishment whenever he looked up to find the Breach gone. It warmed him all over. And there was no better place to enjoy this sight than up here, on Alec's balcony, with his lover in his arms.

They'd snuck away from the festivities in the Great Hall as soon as they decently could. Sure, it was nice to be hailed as heroes, but it grew tiring after a while, all those deferential bows and false smiles. So Dorian had dragged Alec off to his quarters at the earliest opportunity. And here they were, finally alone.

Alec shifted in his embrace, and Dorian realized he looked nervous and unhappy, as if something was bothering him. "What's the matter, _amatus_? You seem tense."

"I'm fine. It's just… Will you really leave me now? Go back to Tevinter, like you said you would? Now that Corypheus is gone."  Alec sounded very young and vulnerable.

Dorian felt his heart constrict painfully. "Of course not. I'd rather let the Imperium rot than leave you."

"But you said…" Alec was actually trembling. "I mean, I do understand, you know. You care about what happens in Tevinter, and quite rightly so."

"I know what I said." In all honesty, Dorian did feel a bit embarrassed recalling his grand declarations. "And you're right, I do care. But you…" He bit his lip, suddenly overcome by emotion. "You matter more to me than all that. For now, I'm staying at your side. The Imperium's problems will keep for a while, I'm sure."

"Really?" Alec still sounded a bit shaky, but at the same time so happy and relieved that it was quite irresistible.

"Really," Dorian confirmed. "Relax, _amatus_ , and enjoy the evening. You've earned all of this, remember? You deserve a little happiness. We all do."

"Maker, yes!" Alec sighed, and Dorian felt him go limp in his arms. "And the party was amazing, don't you think? Josie did such a good job. I don't think I've ever seen so much good food in one place." Alec sighed again, his lips set in a pretty pout.

"Yes, the woman's a genius. But… why do you still look so glum? Really, I'm not going anywhere, I promise." Dorian breathed a kiss on Alec's bare neck, relishing the answering shudder.

To his surprise, Alec blushed. "You'll probably think it's silly, but…"

"What?" Embracing Alec more tightly, he pulled him close.

"I really wanted to try the _crème brulée_. You know, the dessert? Custard with a caramel crust?" Again, Alec sighed. "It was my favourite when I was a kid, but we were only allowed to have it on rare occasions. I told Josie, and she asked one of the Orlesian cooks she hired for the party to make it for me. I think Bull ate the rest of it, though."

"No, he didn't." Dorian smiled. "I saved some for you."

"You what?" The expression on Alec's face was worth all the effort.

"I overheard you talking to Josie, so I smuggled a big bowl of it into your quarters." He grinned proudly when Alec responded with a happy sigh. "Come on. It's waiting for you inside."

He'd placed the bowl on the nightstand and when he saw Alec head for it with an expression of single-minded focus, an idea struck him. "Wait." Ignoring Alec's impatient whine, he stopped him with a hand on his sleeve. "Let's get you out of your clothes first."

"Why, are you afraid I'm going to mess up my finery?" Alec's innocent grin turned into a completely different expression when Dorian responded with a small groan of despair. "Oh! You mean-"

"Of course I do." Dorian rolled his eyes skywards. "Honestly, sometimes you're really slow to catch on."

"I'm sorry." With a quick movement, Alec managed to slither into his arms and out of his coat at the same time. "Can I make up for it with extra enthusiasm?"

"You're certainly welcome to try." Dorian moaned happily when the rest of their clothes came off at breakneck speed.

And then they were on the bed, both of them naked and eager, and Alec reached for the dessert. "Just let me have a spoonful first."

His whole face alight with happy anticipation, he carefully cracked the sugar crust to get at the luscious custard underneath. As soon as the spoon passed his lips, his eyes closed in undisguised ecstasy. "Maker, Dorian! That was so amazingly thoughtful!" He licked his lips slowly, savouring the taste. "You know what? It's a done deal. I'm keeping you forever."

"Are you, now?" Dorian raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "I'm not sure I want to stay around if you love your food more than me."

"Who said I do?" Alec's eyes flew open, and his grin was decidedly mischievous now. "I adore _crème brulée_ , it's true, but there's something I like even better."

Dorian felt his heart speed up. "And that is?"

Before he knew what was happening, Alec had already pushed him on his back and was hovering above him, holding him down with one hand. " _Crème brulée_ with a side dish of Dorian Pavus, of course. Wasn't that what you were suggesting earlier?"

Reaching into the bowl with two fingers, he scooped up some of the custard and applied it liberally to Dorian's lower belly.

It was at this point that Dorian realized the flaw in his plan. Already, some of the stuff was dripping off his body, staining the sheets, and making them stick to his skin.

"Alec, stop! This is going to be a terrible mess." He was torn between laughter and disgust, but at the same time he was more than a little aroused already.

"Shhh." Bending down, Alec licked a soft circle all around his belly button. "I knew it. It tastes even better from your skin."

"But-" Dorian's frown would probably have been more convincing if it hadn't been accompanied by a hoarse groan.

"Honestly, you should try it." Alec ran a gentle finger through the cream spread all over his stomach and held it up to his lips. "Go on. It's delicious."

He gave in. What else could he do? Capturing Alec's finger with his mouth, he sucked hard, and he wasn't sure what was better: the taste of the dessert, sweet and creamy, with a hint of burnt caramel; or Alec's deep-throated moan, the way his cock twitched against his thigh, the hot blush spreading all over his chest.

"Maker, Dorian." Alec's eyes had grown pitch-dark.

Again, he lowered his head to lick Dorian clean, and all he could do was to bury his hands in that honey-gold hair and to hold on tight, because it felt so incredibly good.

Alec laughed, a rich, husky sound that was music to his ears, and then he reached for the bowl again. This time he spread the custard around Dorian's nipples, licking and sucking it off with a ravenous greed that bordered on the obscene. And Dorian found that he was no longer even remotely bothered by the mess or the stickiness.

"Alec, please." He hardly recognized his own voice.

"Do you want more?" Alec had probably intended to tease him some more, but he sounded no longer playful, just… wild and intense, almost feverish with yearning.

"Please," Dorian repeated, hardly able to force out the word through the tightness of his throat.

Alec nodded, and moments later his hand was right where Dorian wanted it most, gently spreading the custard all over his cock. And then his hungry mouth was back; only now, he was no longer gentle. No more soft flicks of his tongue, no more careful licking. This time, he went straight for the kill, sucking hard enough to make Dorian see stars.

But he didn't want to come yet, not before he had driven Alec to distraction as well. "Come here."

Trembling with impatience, he pulled Alec up into his arms, grabbing a handful of the creamy stuff himself and taking hold of them both.

Alec moaned brokenly and thrust hard into his grip. "I love you so much."

They were both so worked up that it was almost impossible to settle into a steady rhythm, and obviously the custard's consistency wasn't ideal, too sticky and not nearly smooth enough, but Dorian didn't care. He was so close already, but somehow, through sheer stubbornness probably, he managed to hold on until Alec lost it, biting down hard on his shoulder. Then, he tightened his grip just the tiniest bit and it was enough. He came with a long, shuddering sigh, too far gone to worry about adding to the mess on their stomachs.

His misgivings returned with a vengeance only moments later, though. "Maker, Alec. Look at this. I'll never be able to look the servants in the eye again."

Alec laughed softly, shaking his head. "Aw, come on. They've probably seen worse. But if it really bothers you-" He pushed himself up on his arms, grimacing when he glanced downwards. "I can sneak down to the laundry room and get rid of them with no one the wiser. Can't be harder than hiding stuff from my mom."

Dorian almost giggled at the thought. "Would you? I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course." With a sigh, Alec got to his feet and extended a hand toward him. "We should clean up first, though."

A little while later Alec returned with fresh sheets and a huge smile on his face. "That was fun. I hid them among the table cloths. Hopefully no one will notice that not all the stains are custard."

"Ewww." Dorian shook himself in disgust. "Well, if they do they're probably going to blame our Orlesian guests."

"True." Alec's chuckle turned into a yawn. Quickly, he smoothed down the sheet, then surveyed his work contentedly. "There. As good as new. Now, come on. I'm knackered."

"Me, too." Dorian stretched out on the bed with a contented sigh, pulling him into his arms. "Rest well, _amatus_. Tomorrow we'll wake up in a new world."

 


	33. Chapter 33

A host of expressions chased each other on Alec's face as he read the letter. When he finally let it sink into his lap, he was staring into space, his lips twitching oddly.

"What's the matter, _amatus_?" Dorian raised his head from his book to look at him. "Bad news?"

Alec nodded. "It's my father. He had a stroke, right after First Day, and died a week later."

Dorian felt as if someone had hit him in the stomach. "Oh, Alec. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." Alec shrugged, pretending to be unconcerned. "He was old, tremendously fat, and he drank too much. He had it coming for a while, really."

"Alec." Dorian allowed the faintest note of reproach to creep into his voice. "Stop that. It's me, remember?"

With a sheepish grimace, Alec came over to lean against the desk, right next to him. "I'm sorry. But really, I'm not exactly devastated by the news. My father and I were never close."

Dorian nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Will you attend the funeral?"

Alec shook his head. "He's already been cremated. But doubtlessly my mother will want her whole brood surrounding her at this time. Maybe I should-"

"Of course you should go." Dorian huffed impatiently. "Look, Corypheus has been gone for months, the Breach remains closed, and things are as peaceful as they ever will be. We can do without you for a while. I'm sure Cassandra and Cullen will handle the Inquisition admirably in your absence."

"I'm sure they will." Alec nodded absent-mindedly. "Dorian? Will you come with me?" The look in his eyes was pleading, almost desperate. "Please?"

"Will I what?" Dorian was more surprised than he could say. "Come with you? Meet your family?" Pushing back his chair he pulled Alec between his spread legs so he could embrace him.

"Yes. It's about time, don't you think?" Alec sounded more determined now, stubborn even. "Well? Will you?"

Dorian hesitated, but really, he was already sold on the idea. Not only was his curiosity tickled, but he was also... flattered and pleasantly surprised that Alec wanted him there. A warm, happy feeling spread inside him, as he pulled Alec's head down for a kiss. "As you wish, _amatus_ ," he breathed against his lips. "If it means so much to you."

* * *

"Poor Alec. To lose a parent at such a young age… It must be tough." Cullen glanced up at the darkening sky.

Alec had come by to give them the news only minutes ago, and Cullen couldn't help but pity him. His own parents had died a few years ago, but they'd been old and they had lived long, full lives. Besides, they had practically been strangers at that point.

"Alec is the youngest of his siblings, by far. Surely, his father was no longer in his prime." Cassandra's face was unreadable as she reached for a rag to oil her blade before putting it away.

They had been sparring in Cassandra's favourite corner of the courtyard, trading powerful blows and blocking them with the ease of long practice. Well, for the most part. Cullen was no slouch with sword and shield, but keeping up with a warrior of Cassandra's calibre was challenging, to say the least, and his left arm still ached from her last attack.

"Still, it must have been a shock." Cullen shook his head. It wasn't like Cassandra to show so little compassion. "Well, at least he has Dorian. He's not alone."

"For Andraste's sake, Alec is a grown man." Cassandra sounded irritated. "Yes, it's sad, but it's not as if he's a helpless orphan."

"No, he isn't." Cullen frowned, unsure of what to make of her irritable mood. But then it hit him. "Your own parents…?"

Cassandra's lips set in a tight line. "They were executed by King Markus, for taking part in an attempt to take the throne from him. My brother and I were too young to understand what had happened, so the king let us live."

Cullen was so stunned by her answer that it took him a moment to reply. Of course he'd known that Cassandra was related to Nevarra's royal family, but that little tidbit of information had never meant much to him. Now he realized that her parents had been embroiled in courtly intrigues on the highest level, and that was hard enough to stomach. But what she'd just told him…

"I'm so very sorry, my love." Shaking off his momentary stupor, he placed a careful hand on her sleeve. She seemed so tense that he wasn't sure an embrace would be welcome. "Was there someone to look after you, at least?"

Much to his relief, she nodded. "My uncle Vestalus. He was appointed our guardian and he took his duties seriously, making sure we lacked for nothing that befit our station." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "He was a _Mortalitasi_."

"A death mage?"  Cullen felt something cold slither down his spine.

He'd heard of those Nevarran dignitaries, guardians of the Grand Necropolis, the city of the dead. Shuddering involuntarily, he tried to imagine the environment Cassandra must have grown up in.

"It wasn't that bad." She must have noticed his reaction. "My uncle was a good man, just not particularly kind or warm. It wasn't his fault that I wasn't born to be a proper Nevarran noblewoman."

"And your brother?" Cullen inquired carefully. "You've never mentioned him before."

A brief flash of pain crossed her features. "Anthony was murdered when I was twelve years old, killed by a group of blood mages. They wanted a dragon hunter, to help them with some obscure ritual, and when he refused-" She swallowed hard. "I watched him die."

"Oh Maker." He didn't hesitate any longer to pull her into a tight hug, cradling her head to his chest. His heart was bleeding for her, for the child she'd been, and for the woman who held those old hurts so close to her heart that it still pained her to talk about them. "I wish there was something I could do or say, but-"

"Just hold me." She was clinging tightly to him, and he felt her sob, just once. "Hold me and never let me go."

"I can do that." Cullen tightened his embrace as much as he dared and for a long time, they remained like this.

He would never desert her, he vowed to himself. No matter what happened, his place was at her side. Even if she became Divine and all he could do was worship her from afar. He would never abandon her.

* * *

They were about three days' March from Skyhold when the snowstorm hit. Alec and Dorian had made good progress up to that point. They were travelling without a large Inquisition retinue, just the two of them on a pair of hardy mountain ponies, which definitely had its advantages in terms of speed and flexibility, even if Cullen had been less than happy.

But Alec had insisted. "This isn't Inquisition business, Cullen. I'm going to see my family, not some foreign head of state. Besides, Dorian and I are perfectly able to defend ourselves." Cassandra had raised a doubtful eyebrow at this, but Alec had simply laughed her concern off. "Oh come on! Nothing out there can possibly be more dangerous than Corypheus. We'll be fine."

And so far, events had proven him right. As a matter of fact, their journey had been so uneventful as to be almost boring. Not a single wolf or bear or bandit, no demons, no darkspawn. Just crisp, clear mountain air and gorgeous views. This morning, however, they had awoken to dark, ominous storm clouds amassing on the horizon, and the morning air had been chillier than before, with a sharp, metallic tang to it that promised snow.

Still, Alec wasn't overly worried. The pass road they were travelling on was one regularly used by Inquisition patrols and scouts. At Cullen's command, all such routes in the mountains had been clearly marked by stone pillars and were kept in excellent repair. The Commander had also ordered log cabins to be built at regular intervals and equipped with firewood and basic supplies, so travellers wouldn't lack for shelter.

When the first snowflakes began to dance in the air surrounding them, Alec reined his pony in to glance at his map.

"Where are we?" Dorian manoeuvred his mount, a handsome little piebald mare with a bushy mane and soulful eyes, right next to Alec's shaggy black gelding.

"Here, I think." Alec pointed to a spot on the map. "Look, there's a shelter, not far ahead. All we need to do is follow the road."

"Then let's not dawdle." Dorian shivered despite his warm fur coat. "The sooner we get out of this weather the better."

Alec nodded, though he couldn't quite suppress an eye roll as soon as Dorian had turned his back to him. Really, if Dorian thought _this_ was bad weather… It might feel freezing cold to a Northerner like him, but it really was no big deal. It definitely didn't compare to Alec's trek through the snow after the catastrophe at Haven. They were dressed for the weather, they had their ponies, and their goal was only a short ride away. No, there was nothing to worry about, nothing at all.

An hour later, Alec was ready to admit he'd been an idiot. The snow was coming down thick and fast, and their ponies were struggling through the deep drifts blocking their path. And it was cold, icy cold, with the rising wind hurling tiny snow crystals into their faces. Alec's hands holding the reins were beginning to feel numb despite his thick, fur-lined gloves, and he could no longer feel his feet at all. Dorian had fallen silent a while ago, and Alec worried about him.

Surely, they should have arrived at the shelter already? Fortunately, he could still see the markers, so at least they hadn't lost their way completely, but he was beginning to fear they'd ridden past the cabin without noticing it behind the wall of swirling snowflakes. But no, now he could make out a bulky shape next to the road, not very far ahead. Glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Dorian was still behind him, he tried to make an encouraging gesture. But there was no reaction at all from the bundle of furs that was all that was visible of his beloved.

Cursing, Alec spurred the pony on. _Almost there._ It seemed like an eternity, but finally, _finally_ they reached the building. The ponies found shelter in the shed, a small windowless outbuilding. Alec propped Dorian up against the wall while he quickly rubbed them down and found some hay and water for them. A crude wooden door led directly into the actual living quarters.

Alec immediately got to work on building a fire in the open hearth. Then he went looking for furs and blankets. Dorian remained apathetic through it all, as if he was frozen through, and the sight of him made Alec's stomach flutter with worry. It was only when he'd settled him on a pile of bearskins right in front of the fire, covered by three thick woollen blankets that Dorian seemed to recover a little. He accepted the mug of tea Alec handed him with a grateful sigh and he nodded wearily when Alec asked him if he was okay.

_Time to find something to eat_. Alec wasn't much of a cook at the best of times, and the shelter's emergency rations had been selected for storage life rather than flavour, but he did manage to whip together some sort of thick stew from beef jerky and turnips. It didn't actually taste too bad, especially after he added some of the wine they'd brought on the journey. Dorian wolfed it down without his usual daintiness, and Alec had to forego a second helping in his favour.

"Better." When Dorian spoke again, Alec almost jumped at the sound. "Thank you, _amatus_."

He _did_ look much better, with a little colour returning to his cheeks, but he was still shivering.

Alec frowned at this. "It's fine. But you're still cold."

He had to do something. Luckily, he recalled a conversation he'd had with Krem and Scout Harding right after Haven, about the best ways to keep warm. _Well, obviously another warm body is your best bet_. Krem had grinned and winked at him, but Harding had nodded earnestly in confirmation. _He's right. Get naked and close together, my grandad used to say. Works wonders._

Well, Alec certainly had no objections to getting naked and close to Dorian. Getting to his feet, he quickly began to strip.

"Alec! What are you doing?" Dorian stared at him as if he had suddenly sprouted horns.

"Take off your clothes." Alec grinned at the look he received in response. "Come on. Trust me. It's a time-honoured method. Mountain dwellers have used it for ages."

"You're sure it's not just a trick to get the object of your desire to join you in bed?" Dorian glared at him. "Who knows to what lengths they're willing to go in those remote mountain villages?"

"Yeah, that might be another reason why it's so popular." Alec grinned. "But it really is the best way to get warm. Or would you prefer to use your magic instead?"

"Not an option." Dorian made a face and reluctantly reached for the fastenings of his robe. "I'm exhausted enough as it is. Draining myself of mana won't make things better in the long run."

"See? This is much better." Alec threw off his smalls and got under the blankets with Dorian.

Together they got rid of his remaining clothes, and then Alec pulled him close, as close as he possibly could. Dorian's feet were still icy, and his skin covered in gooseflesh all over, but Alec didn't let that deter him. Turning on his side, he wrapped his body firmly around Dorian's, gently rubbing every inch of skin he could reach. It took a while, but eventually Dorian relaxed in his arms and grew warmer, and heavier. Moments later, his breathing evened out, and when Alec bent over him to look at his face, he was fast asleep.

Alec's chest contracted almost painfully at the sight of his lover's sleeping face in the soft light of the fire. Dorian looked incredibly beautiful, even with his moustache all droopy and his hair mussed up, and deep shadows under his eyes. His posture was wholly relaxed, open and vulnerable, and Alec was almost overcome by love and affection. To hold Dorian like this, to know he had his trust, to be allowed to take care of him in such a moment of weakness… There was nothing in all of Thedas that meant more to him.

At the same time, he found himself in quite a conundrum, because touching Dorian, having that amazing body in his arms, all naked and warm and velvety, had left him undeniably and inescapably aroused. It was all he could do to stop himself from grinding his rock hard cock against Dorian's smooth skin. He _knew_ how good it would feel, but at the same time there was no way he would risk waking Dorian, not now, when he'd settled down.

Briefly, Alec debated whether he should crawl out from under the covers and take care of himself. It was tempting, but at the same time Dorian was so wonderfully warm, and he really didn't want to let go of him. Maybe tomorrow, when they had rested a bit… Before he'd quite finished the thought, Alec drifted off into sleep. And in his dreams they made love, over and over, hot and sweet and perfect.

He slept better than he had in months.


	34. Chapter 34

They arrived at the Trevelyans' huge, rambling manor on a bright, clear winter's day. The sun was shining brightly enough to give the illusion of spring, and the house looked warm and inviting, if a little shabby in places. An old servant beamed at 'Master Alec' and took them to a large hall with a heavy oaken ceiling that smelled of wet dog and wood smoke. Two tall men were waiting for them by the fireplace, rising to meet them.

"Angus. Gavin." Alec nodded at both of them, his wary eyes belying his easy smile. "It's good to see you."

_His elder brothers_. The new Bann, and the third son, according to what Alec had explained on the journey. The second son, Hamish, was overseeing the family's trade interests in Ostwick.

Dorian regarded the brothers with undisguised interest. The family resemblance was strong. Both had blond hair, though a rather more reddish hue than Alec's, and the same bright blue eyes. Neither was fat, but they both looked heavier than Alec, more staid and settled than he ever would. They were also quite a bit older, well into their forties by the looks of it. 

Angus, the elder, was looking at Alec with an odd mixture of pride and disapproval. "So… the Inquisitor has decided to honour us with a visit. Thanks for saving the world, I guess."

"You're welcome." Alec was clearly not at all put out by his brother's grumpiness, but he did seem slightly nervous. "There's someone I want you to meet." He gestured for Dorian to come closer. "Dorian Pavus. My companion. The man I love." Alec raised his chin defiantly.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Dorian held his breath. He hadn't expected Alec to be quite so aggressively open about their relationship. Angus' face turned bright red, and he opened his mouth to speak, no doubt intending to give Alec a piece of his mind.

But before things could get ugly, Gavin placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "So the rumours are true?" With a resigned sigh, he rubbed his neck. "Maker, Alec, you're not making this easy on us, are you?" He raised his head to look at Dorian with frank appraisal. "A man. A Tevinter. A mage, to boot. The neighbours will never get over this." There was a faint twinkle of amusement in his eyes, though, despite his harsh words, and it gave Dorian hope. 

Angus just snorted, but he nodded a curt, reluctant greeting at Dorian. 

Again, the room fell awkwardly silent, but before Dorian could decide on whether he should say something, a tall matronly woman in a black dress appeared in the doorway behind Angus and gave a small cry of joy. "Alec!"

Alec's smile immediately lost its strain as his mother embraced him tightly, muttering endearments into his ear. She was no longer young, Dorian saw, her hair greying and her body slightly plump around the waist, but she'd clearly been very pretty once, and she had a kind face. 

"Mother. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for the funeral." Alec pulled back and looked at her almost imploringly, holding both her hands tightly. "This is Dorian. He..."

Letting go of Alec, Lady Trevelyan turned her attention to him. "Welcome to our family, Dorian."

Before he could process what was happening, he was already enveloped in a warm embrace, hugged to her soft bosom, surrounded by the scent of warm bread and vanilla, and he closed his eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion. When he opened them, he could see Alec grinning at him, and his brothers exchanging loaded looks, but he didn't care. In all his life, he'd never felt so safe and warm.

Gently, he freed himself from her arms and took a step back, smiling so much his face hurt. "Lady Trevelyan, I-"

But he didn't get to finish. There was a loud squeal and a gust of girlish laughter and a young girl with a cloud of red-golden hair around her beaming, freckled face, burst through the door and threw herself at Alec's neck. "Alec! Finally! Did you bring me a present?"

"Erin!" Lady Trevelyan scolded her with an indulgent smile. "Where are your manners?"

But Alec was laughing happily, kissing both her cheeks and grabbing her firmly around her slim waist to twirl her around. "Pumpkin! Look at you, you're all grown up!"

Dorian felt his brow furrow. "And this is…?" he ventured, with a questioning look at Alec.

The girl giggled, and Alec blushed a little. "This is Erin. She's my oldest niece, actually, but she's only a few years younger than me. And as you can see, she's a spoilt little brat." There was a world of affection in his voice.

"I'm not!" Erin protested with a pretty pout. "No more than you are. And anyway, who's your good-looking friend?"

She gave Dorian a smouldering look that actually made his heart speed up for a moment, before he remembered that he wasn't interested in girls. _The charm clearly runs in the family._

Alec shook his head, putting on his best strict face. "Leave him alone, Erin. He's mine." It was said jokingly, but the implied possessiveness sent a hot spike down Dorian's spine. 

Other siblings and cousins and in-laws showed up in due course, and within an hour, Dorian had completely lost track of who was who and how they were all related. It didn't matter. It was completely amazing, all of it, the laughter, the hearty embraces, the easy familiarity. He'd never realized just how big and noisy a family could be.

"Too much?" Elbowing aside a gaggle of cousins, Alec dropped onto the bench at his side, offering him a cup of cider. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Dorian hesitated, but then he briefly leaned his head against Alec's shoulder, glancing around to check everyone's reactions. No one seemed to mind, thankfully. "I love it."

"You do now." Alec grinned evilly. "Just wait until you've had a whole week of it."

* * *

Cassandra found Bull in his favourite corner in the Herald's Rest, nursing a large tankard of ale.

He smiled when she joined him at the table. "Seeker. An unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe it?"

She nodded at the barmaid and pointed at Bull's drink. Within moments, a second tankard appeared in front of her. "Your men have gotten in trouble. Again."

The Chargers were not a particularly rambunctious lot, as far as mercenaries went, but lately, hardly a day had gone by without someone reporting them to Skyhold's guard captain. Rarely for any serious offense, and they were hardly the only ones, but it had reached a point where it couldn't just be overlooked it any more.

Bull sighed. "They're bored and restless, and I can't blame them. All this sitting around isn't good for them. As soon as Alec returns, he'll have to take us on a proper outing. I heard a dragon was sighted in the Frostbacks. I bet it would do the boys a world of good if-" On seeing her frown, Bull abandoned all excuses, and took a deep draught instead. "What was it this time?"

"One of the Blades of Hessarian called Krem a 'dirty Vint'." Cassandra hesitated for a moment. "There may have been other slurs, but Krem won't tell."

Bull's one eye narrowed, but he didn't reply.

"Either way, they got into a scuffle, and now the man is missing two fingers and Skinner and Dalish are looking pretty rough." She shrugged apologetically. Cassandra liked the Chargers well enough and didn't enjoy having to call for disciplinary measures. "You'd better check up on them."

"Will do. Just as soon as I've finished my drink." He heaved another long sigh. "How are you doing, Seeker? There's talk of you being the next Divine. Any truth to it?"

"It's been mentioned." Cassandra felt her mood darken. "Apparently, several of the Grand Clerics think I might be a suitable candidate."

"Ha!" Bull snorted. "No offense, but I doubt that headdress would suit you. You look much better in armour."

She gave him her best chastising look, but of course she understood the implied message. Bull knew her well enough to realize that she wouldn't be happy in a gilded cage. And yet, he understood about duty and devotion, didn't he? Wasn't the Qun all about honour, about sticking to your destined path in life? Maybe _he_ would be able to help her make up her mind.

"Can I ask you something? Something personal?" Cassandra almost regretted the impulse as soon as the words had left her lips.

"Now you're making me curious." Raising his tankard in an inviting gesture, Bull grinned at her over its rim. "Of course. Go ahead."

"Not _that_ kind of personal." She rolled her eyes at him. "At the Storm Coast, when you let the dreadnoughts sink to save the Chargers… How did you make that choice? What was it that decided you?"

His expression darkened immediately, and his head appeared to droop forward, as if his massive horns were suddenly weighing him down.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" Yes. She should have kept her mouth shut.

"No, it's all right. I get where you’re coming from." Bull raised his chin again, facing her with a clear, determined gaze. "Look, I won't pretend it was easy. The Qun was important to me. It gave me rules, something to live by, and that's not to be sneered at. But the Chargers… They are my family. My boys versus an alliance with the Qunari? There really was no choice at all in the end. The only thing I regret is how many people had to die for it."

Cassandra swallowed. "Well, I, for one, am glad your men will continue to fight at our side, Bull. I would not trade the Chargers for any alliance."

"Thanks, Seeker. You should tell them some time, you know." He winked at her.

"I guess I should." She smiled back. "You know, the Seekers of Truth used to be my family, in a way. I had an apprentice, Daniel. I have never known a finer young man, and I cared for him very much. Not in the romantic sense," she hurriedly corrected herself.

"I know what you mean." He motioned for her to go on. "What happened to him?"

"He died at Caer Oswin." _By my own hand._ She felt her eyes sting. "They fed him red lyrium and he-" For a moment, her voice threatened to fail. "There was nothing we could do. He should have come with me, when I left. He didn't believe in the war against mages anyway. He just stayed out of a sense of duty."

"There's nothing wrong with doing your duty." Bull sounded almost gentle.

"Not if you're fighting for a worthwhile cause, maybe. But Daniel was deceived, just as-" Cassandra caught herself just in time.

Bull nodded. "It's tough when the ones who watch over us abuse that authority. Happens all too easily when people find themselves in a position of power, though. Could happen to all of us."

There it was again, that altogether too perceptive look of his. _I swear, sometimes it's as if he's reading my thoughts._ "There've been too many lies, Bull," was all she said aloud. "Too much death and suffering, too."

"And that is something we can all agree on, I guess." He smiled wistfully. "Let's drink to those we lost, then, eh? They won't be forgotten."

"We'll honour their memory," she replied automatically, but really, it wasn't that easy to banish the ghosts of her past.

Still, she was glad she'd taken the time to talk to Bull. He hadn't told her what to do, not in so many words. But their conversation had helped her sort out her thoughts, and suddenly, the path she had to take was clear.

Life was too short. She wouldn't waste the rest of her days debating with clerics and warming the Sunburst Throne. Whatever the future held in store for her, whatever the Maker's plans for her, she wasn't ready for more intrigues, more lies, more deceptions. _No. I can't do it._ This time, duty would have to take a back seat to happiness.

* * *

Alec had insisted on sharing a room with Dorian during their stay, despite Angus' evident disapproval. But he wanted his beloved with him, in his arms, and he was not going to forego the pleasure of his company because of his brother's hang-ups. Angus had opened his mouth once, as if to say something, but had been silenced by a pointed look from Lady Trevelyan.

They ended up in Alec’s own old room, which made him smile. It no longer looked as it had back then, of course, as it had been used by several of his nieces and nephews since his departure. But the view from the window was still the same, and if he twisted his neck a little… Yes, there it was.

"Dorian." He called his lover over to his side and pointed to a narrow ledge running along the side of the building. "See that? I used to climb down there at night, to sneak out and meet my friends. I wonder if I could still do it."

Dorian actually looked a little queasy. "You climbed down a sheer wall? Maker, Alec, it's a miracle you didn't break your neck. Don't expect me to stand by and watch while you risk your life."

"It's not dangerous. Well, not particularly," Alec amended, remembering one particular night when only a fortuitously placed hay wagon had broken his fall and saved him from serious injury. Of course he hadn't exactly been sober. "But hey, if it worries you, I promise I'll be good." Pulling Dorian into his arms, he gently nuzzled his throat. "I have much better ideas on how to spend my time here with you anyway."

Dorian moaned, and Alec felt his body respond with satisfying swiftness through their soft house clothes. But as soon as Alec began grinding into him, he pulled back with a forced little laugh. "Are you serious, _amatus_? Here, in your parents' house? If anyone should happen to hear us-"

"They already know we're lovers." Alec shrugged. "It's not as if I'd pretended otherwise."

"Yes, but there's a big difference between knowing it in the abstract and actually witnessing it," Dorian pointed out. "As long as they don't hear your moans, they can still pretend it's not happening."

"Not really." Alec sighed. "Look at it this way: We have a room with just one bed. I love you. You're insanely hot. Even if we're as quiet as Chantry mice, _everyone_ will assume we're having sex."

"So we might as well enjoy it, is that what you're saying?" Dorian was almost smiling. "Impeccable logic, as usual." Yet, he was clearly not convinced yet.

_Blight it._ Alec wasn't ready to go for a whole week without at least some fun between the sheets. There had to be a way of putting Dorian at ease.

"Look, what's the worst that can happen?" Playfully, he tugged at the neckline of Dorian's thin linen shirt, pushing it down just far enough that he could breathe a kiss on his collarbone.

Dorian shivered, but he didn't give in. "Mortal embarrassment? Your brother throwing me out into the street and setting the dogs on me because this is a decent Andrastian household?"

Alec made a rude noise. "Angus can stuff it. It's not as if he was a paragon of virtue when he younger. There was a reason he had to get married so early, you know. And as for the embarrassment, I've had worse. My mother once caught me… well, you can guess." Alec grinned, but at the same time, he felt his ears heat up. "When I was fifteen. She heard me moan and assumed I was unwell. I thought I was going to die of shame."

"Oh Maker." Dorian flinched in sympathy. "What did she say?"

"Not much." Alec closed his eyes, recalling that night. "She just walked away quickly. And then told Gavin to have a chat with me about locking doors and being discreet."

"Gavin?" Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Not your father? Or Angus?"

Alec laughed softly. "No, Gavin. I think she picked the most diplomatic one for the task. It was okay, you know. He teased me quite a bit, but he understood."

"I bet he did." There was a faint mocking edge to Dorian's words, but Alec didn't care, because now, finally, he was pulling Alec into his arms.

And Maker, he felt so good, and he was half-hard already, and Alec wanted him so badly that he whimpered involuntarily, unable to keep his hips from moving.

"So eager?" Dorian's lips were soft on his neck. "So completely unconcerned about what they will all think?"

Alec made another small, helpless noise, too overcome to speak, all his attention focused on the way Dorian was touching him now, so intense and so wonderful.

Dorian laughed, but it sounded breathless and when he began unlacing Alec's pants, his hands were trembling. "So… Did you lock the door tonight?"

"Twice." Alec moaned without restraint as Dorian's fingers met his bare skin. "And I promise I will try to keep down the noise."

 


	35. Chapter 35

The forest was quiet and eerily beautiful in the first morning light, with glimpses of the sun through the green canopy above and the last dewdrops glittering on the grass. Alec had joined Erin and two of her younger brothers for an early hunt, crawling out of bed at the crack of dawn while Dorian was still fast asleep. They had made their way to the forest's edge on horseback, with Erin galloping ahead of them all, her long hair spread out behind her like a banner. She was a born rider, fearless and graceful, and it was a joy to watch her.

Now the horses were tethered in a little clearing, resting while they crept through the woodland, on the lookout for game. They each carried a bow, and Alec had already used his to take down a pair of geese with two skilled shots in quick succession, much to his nephews' amazement. He smiled to himself. It was nice to be on the receiving end of their admiring looks, nice to enjoy their innocent hero worship.

Quietly, they moved through the woods, careful not to spook their prey. It was a skill his father had taught him, back when he was still a boy. Alec placed one foot in front of the other, carefully avoiding dry twigs and leaves, until he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

A perfect young buck, just about in shooting range, and now it was turning around, presenting its vulnerable flank to him. Alec had his bow up and an arrow notched in a heartbeat. But just as he was about to loosen the string, something brushed lightly against his ear. Biting back a curse, he concentrated hard, blocking out the distraction, clearing his mind… and the arrow flew true. The buck dropped soundlessly to the ground, and he swivelled around to face his niece.

"Blight it, Erin, you little minx!" He was too angry to mince words. "Was that really necessary? Aren't you a bit too old for such childish games?"

"Hey, relax. Sorry to have bothered you." She didn't look particularly repentant, as she withdrew the long feather she'd used to tickle him, in the hope of making him miss his shot. "I thought it was funny."

"It wasn't." He glared at her. "Imagine if I'd only wounded the poor thing." Alec realized that the thought actually upset him. "If you hunt the creatures of the forest, you owe them a clean death, Father used to say." It had been one of his earliest lessons. And wasn't it weird how his father's words suddenly carried twice the weight, now that he was gone?

Erin rolled her eyes at him. "But you didn't wound it, you killed it. With one clean shot. And by the way, I'm impressed." This time, she did sound as if she meant it. "You always used to fall for this trick, back before you left."

"Did I?" He shrugged, trying not to sound too blasé. "Yeah, well. It's amazing how much it improves your focus if your life depends on your next shot. Or someone else's."

Erin's pretty little face grew serious. "I'm sorry. I keep forgetting who you are now. What you've done. Where you've been. Of course you've changed."

"I'm still Alec. Still just me." They had reached the buck by now, and without thinking, he pulled off his fine leather gloves to avoid spattering them with blood.

"And this?" Deftly, Erin caught his wrist, turning his hand so the palm faced upward. The mark didn't flare up, with no rift nearby, but its outline was still clearly visible, like a brand that had been burnt into his skin. " _Just you,_ eh?" Her expression softened when he flinched. "Does it hurt?"

"Not now." Gently but decisively, Alec pulled back his hand. "Look, I know it looks alarming, but it's no big deal, really." He made an effort to sound light-hearted. "Not my first scar, and probably not my last either."

She opened her mouth as if to contradict him, but then she changed her mind. Shaking her head, she helped him with the buck. A little while later, the boys joined them, too, and they worked together in silence. It was a messy task, and by the time they'd finished, they were all ready to go home.

When they returned, Alec was pleased to find Dorian already up and about. He was sitting near the fireplace in the great hall with Alec's mother and they were in the middle of an animated discussion of a book she was reading, their heads close together as Dorian pointed out a particular passage. They both looked up with a smile as he entered the hall, and the sight made his heart do a happy little jump.

Bending down to embrace them both, he completely forgot about the state of his clothes until Dorian pulled back with an indignant huff, grimacing at the smell of blood on his hands. "Alec! You're a mess!"

"Really, dear." His mother shook her head, smiling indulgently. "When will you ever learn to wash before you join us in here? Honestly, you haven't changed a bit since you were a boy."

Her words struck Alec right in the heart. Without quite knowing why, he felt tears of relief spring to his eyes, and he quickly turned away to hide them. "You're right, Mother." He smiled through the tears. "I guess some things never change."

* * *

It had been a long and wearying day at Skyhold, with all the usual problems: complaints by the Orlesian dignitaries; tavern brawls between members of the different mercenary companies; and the inevitable squabble between mages and former Templars in the mess hall at lunch. People were getting bored and listless, and without a common enemy to unite them, their old dissensions threatened to rise to the surface again.

When Cassandra joined him in his bed at nightfall, all Cullen really wanted was to hold her, listen to her breathing and finally get some rest. But when he reached for the candle, she stopped his hand with a decisive gesture.

"Cullen. There's something I need to tell you." Her expression was serious, almost grim, and his heart almost stopped.

This was the part where she would tell him that it was over, that she would be leaving for Val Royeaux soon, that they couldn't keep seeing each other. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, as if he could thereby prevent it from happening. He'd known it; he'd seen it coming for quite some time now. It had all been too good to last, and of course he'd never deserved her, so it was only right-

"I've told Mother Therèse that I don't want her to put my candidacy forward." Cassandra took a deep breath, as if steeling herself to go on.

Cullen raised his head, uncertain of whether he'd heard right. Had she really just said-

"I'm not fit to be Divine, and more importantly..." Her voice grew steadier, and when she met his gaze, there was so much love and affection in her eyes that it made him swallow. "I don't want it. I'm not ready to give up my own dreams. Not now that I've found you." She took his hand. "I love you. And I'm not leaving you."

Unable to speak, Cullen pulled her close, squeezing her so tightly to his chest that he was probably hurting her. But he couldn't stop himself. It was too much, too good to believe. He'd vowed to himself that he wouldn't ask this of her, but it had been so _hard_ , when everything inside him had been screaming in pain at the thought of losing her. And here she was, telling him that she would stay, of her own accord, because she wanted to be with him, Cullen Rutherford, an ex-Templar, a failure, a man who had done so much wrong.

"Oh sweet Andraste be praised." Finally, he found his voice again, though it sounded hoarse and strangled to his own ears. "I… I know I shouldn't be so selfish, but… Maker, Cassandra, this makes me happier than you can possibly know." As he buried his face in her hair, he realized that his cheeks were wet with tears.

"Shhh." Smiling, she pulled him down for a kiss. "Did you really think I was going to give you up? I can't, and I won't. Not for all the honours and titles in Thedas." She sounded fierce.

"I didn't dare to hope." Again, his voice failed him, and he held her, clinging tight to her until a thought struck him. Now that they had a shot at a future together…

"Listen, Cassandra. When Alec is back…" He breathed in her scent, feeling his heart speed up. "Do you think you might accompany me to Ferelden? To Honnleath, where I grew up?" He held his breath, suddenly unsure of whether he was moving too fast.

To his relief, Cassandra smiled. "Your family is still living there, right?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Mia is dying to meet you, I believe. She's been badgering me about you for a while now. Besides… There's a place nearby that I want to show you. A lake, not far from the village."

Cassandra was watching his expression intently. "It's important to you."

It wasn't a question, but Cullen nodded. "Yes. I loved my siblings, but they were very loud at times. I would go to the lake to clear my head, to have time to think.  It was always quiet there." He smiled at the memory. "I was happy there."

"You sound so wistful." Cassandra traced the scar on his lip with her fingertip, making him shiver. "When was the last time you went there?"

"The day I left for Templar training." He remembered it all too clearly, even though it had been a lifetime ago. His siblings had been quiet and subdued for once, on realizing that he was leaving for good. "My brother gave me a lucky coin that day. The only thing I took from home. Of course we weren't supposed to keep such trinkets, but-" He broke off, suddenly embarrassed. He'd been such a stickler for the rules back then, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to throw the coin away.

"And? Did it bring you luck?" Cassandra sounded almost playful, which was rare for her, and it made him smile.

"Eventually." Rolling over with her, he nibbled gently on her shoulder. "It may not have been the easiest journey, but right now…" She wiggled below him, making him gasp, as a wave of desire washed over his whole body. "I think I can safely say that I'm the luckiest man in all the world."

* * *

Dorian's head felt fuzzy, whether from too much wine or from the rambunctious partying going on around him, he wasn't sure. After a whole week surrounded by Trevelyans, he'd thought he'd be inured to the noise and the chaos, but tonight it had reached a whole new level. Not only was everyone laughing and shouting, but there was also music, thrumming wildly in his ears, and even more people than usual squeezed into the old manor.

The occasion was a lavish farewell party Alec's brother had insisted on throwing for them, much to Dorian's surprise.

"Shouldn't your family still be in mourning?" he'd asked Alec, as they were getting ready for the festivities, dressing up in the finest clothes they'd brought. He'd wondered about this for a while. Lady Trevelyan's widow's garbs seemed to be the family's only concession to their recent loss.

"Technically, yes." Alec nodded. "But us Marchers are a pragmatic lot, and we don't really believe in wallowing in our grief. Besides, we've always been on good terms with the Chantry, so the Revered Mother can be relied on to grant a dispensation if there's a reason to celebrate. And my father wouldn't have minded, trust me."

Dorian shook his head. "Still… Your brother didn't even seem all that happy to see you when we first arrived. And now he's going to all this trouble on your behalf? That doesn't make sense."

Alec had just grinned. "Ah, don't be fooled by Angus. I know he seems gruff, but deep inside, he's really proud that his very own baby brother is the leader of the famed Inquisition. Just don't expect him to admit it. Besides, this is the perfect excuse to show off a little for the neighbours. Angus won't let it be said that he was too tight-fisted to give me a proper send-off."

Well, if Dorian was any judge, the neighbours _should_ be impressed. The tables were creaking under their load of food, there was a never-ending supply of ale and wine, and everyone was having a good time. Erin beamed at him in passing, her skirt flying high up as Alec twirled her around in a wild country dance. He was laughing, his face flushed from the exertion, and Dorian's chest tightened with pride and affection at the sight of him.

Just then, the dance ended, and at the same time, there was a commotion near the door. A tall man had appeared on the doorstep. Dorian was craning his neck to get a better look at the newcomer, when he heard a loud whoop from behind and Alec pushed past him.

"Matt! I didn't think you'd show up." Alec was laughing and crying at the same time, and he was embracing the other man tightly, clasping his shoulder in a possessive grip. "Maker, I've missed you!"

Matt laughed with delight, and muttered a reply, too low for Dorian to hear. He fondly ruffled Alec's hair and followed him to a free seat at the adjoining table. Dorian briefly wondered whether he should join them there, but decided against it. They were close enough he could follow their conversation, and he preferred to remain in the background a little longer.

"Sweet Andraste, Matt, it's good to see you." Alec was still beaming. "How are you doing? They told me you got married?"

"So I did." Matt's voice was warm and sonorous. He was a good-looking guy, Dorian had to admit, well-built and with a friendly face, his eyes hazel and his fine hair a light brown. "Just a few months after you left, as a matter of fact. You remember Caitriona? Arl Randall's second daughter?"

"I remember." Alec's smile was genuine. "Is she still as beautiful as she used to be?"

"More so." Matt's eyes were shining with pride. "We've got a little girl, Alec, born just four weeks ago. She's the sweetest babe you've ever seen." He sounded just the teensiest bit uncertain, as if he wasn't sure the news was welcome.

But Alec seemed completely relaxed and at ease. Clearly he was well over his youthful infatuation. "Congratulations, mate! That's great news."

Dorian wouldn't have minded hearing a little more, but of course it wasn't to be. Someone was tugging at his sleeve from behind.

"Dorian! Dance with me. Alec has deserted me and I'm bored." It was impossible to resist Erin's pretty pout, and with a sigh, he allowed himself be dragged off to the dance floor.

Much later, Dorian dropped onto a bench, panting and dishevelled from all the bouncing and carousing, and firmly refused another round. He really, really needed a break. Though, if he was honest, he hadn't had so much fun in years. Smiling, he watched Erin whirl away in the arms of yet another victim. The girl seemed to have unlimited energy.

"Dorian?" A deep voice, right next to him, tore him out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, may I call you Dorian?" It was Matt, looking rather charmingly uncertain.

"Of course." Dorian twisted around to grab two glasses from the table. "Join me for a glass of wine?"

"Gladly." Matt had the same rolling Marcher accent that Alec's siblings had, and Alec himself, when he was drunk or really relaxed. "We haven't been introduced. I'm Matt. Alec and I-"

"I know who you are," Dorian interrupted him, then shrugged apologetically to make up for his brusqueness.  "Your name tends to come up a lot in Alec's stories."

"Does it, now?" Matt glanced over at Alec, who was smiling politely as he listened to the recollections of an elderly aunt at another table. "I hope he left out the embarrassing bits. There are a few incidents I'd rather not have mentioned in polite company."

"Don't worry. I've only heard good things," Dorian lied without compunction. "The two of you were very close, weren't you?" He knew he was playing with fire, but he'd seen the way they had hugged earlier, and he couldn't help but be a little curious as to Matt's perspective on their friendship.

Matt laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. "Oh, yes. Inseparable, really. The best of friends, closer than brothers."

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the memory of the stories Alec had regaled him with. Dorian didn't quite know why, but all of a sudden he decided to be blunt. "Did you know that Alec was in love with you?"

Matt made a small, startled noise, and his knuckles tightened around the stem of his glass, but he met Dorian's gaze without flinching. "Of course I did. I'm neither blind nor stupid. And believe me, if I could have-" He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. "Look, like I said, I love Alec more than my own brothers, but not like that. Never, no matter how much he wanted me to. And I know it hurt him, and…" He trailed off, giving Dorian a pleading look. "I'm so glad he's found you. I've never seen him so happy and relaxed, not even back when we were boys. With you, he's where he wants to be."

"Well, I…" Dorian was too baffled to come up with a proper reply.

Before he'd gathered his wits, Alec was there, nudging him to the side a little so he could join them on the bench. "Everything all right?"

He put his arm around Dorian's waist, pulling him closer and for once, Dorian gladly let him. "Yes, _amatus_. Everything is fine." He exchanged a quick look with Matt. "It couldn't be better."


	36. Chapter 36

Cassandra was crossing the yard on her way back from inspecting the newest batch of Inquisition recruits when Bull called her over.

"Seeker! Do you have time for a chat?" He had made himself comfortable on the bench outside the tavern, with Harding at his side.

The little scout had both feet in his lap, and he was massaging her calves, his huge hands moving with astonishing delicacy. When Cassandra approached, Harding quickly sat up, shrugging apologetically and muttering something about tired feet.

"I have a few minutes." Cassandra smiled at the two of them. She couldn't help it; they were just so cute together. "Josephine is expecting me, but she won't mind if I'm a little late."

"I won't keep you long." Bull squinted up into the sunlight. "Just wanted to ask if you've got news from the boss."

"Alec sent a raven." Cassandra pulled up a block of wood so she could sit down. "From what he said, they won't be back any time soon. They're headed for Vigil's Keep right now."

"The Warden stronghold?" Harding frowned. "Huh? Why would they want to go there?"

"Probably just enjoying their vacation." Bull grinned. "Can't blame them, really. I bet they are having a _really_ good time together.” His voice was dripping with innuendo.

Cassandra cleared her throat. "Warden Howe invited them, I believe. He and Alec have been good friends since Adamant. Besides, it’s not every day you get a chance to meet the Hero of Ferelden. I have to admit I envy them a little. Not all Grey Wardens are like Blackwall, you know. Or Rainier, I should say." She glared over at the stables, not bothering to hide her disgust for the man who had masqueraded as a Warden and deceived them all.

"Aw, come on, Seeker." Bull's face had turned serious. "You ever going to let him off the hook for what he did?"

"A coward who abandoned his men?" She allowed an icy edge to creep into her voice. "Who ordered the slaughter of innocents, for _coin_? Not likely."

"He did try to atone for his sins." Harding sounded hesitant, as if she was afraid Cassandra would direct her disapproval at her. "Surely that has to count for something."

"You think so?" Cassandra snorted contemptuously. "A man who truly aspired to be righteous would not lie. He would _earn_ respect, not steal the respect due another."

"And yet Alec allowed him to stay." Bull put his arm protectively around Harding who shrugged him off with an irritated grimace.

"Alec is far too kind-hearted. If it were up to me…" Cassandra didn't finish the sentence. It wasn't her place to criticize the Inquisitor, even if she was certain he was wrong.

Still, that night when she was lying in Cullen's arms, she suddenly found herself assailed by doubts. True, Rainier had lied to them, assumed the identity of a better man to hide his past sins. And yet... he'd been ready to pay the price for his crimes eventually. He'd given himself up to the authorities, and if it hadn't been for the Inquisition's timely intervention, he'd have been executed for his deeds. Cassandra sighed deeply.

"What's on your mind, love?" Of course Cullen had noticed how distracted she was.

"I was just thinking about Blackwall. Rainier.” She huddled closer to him, craving his warmth. "I wonder why Alec chose to give him a second chance."

"He asked me for advice, you know." Cullen's arm tightened around her shoulders in silent acknowledgement of her need. "At the prison, in Val Royeaux, before we arranged for Rainier's release."

"And what did you tell him?" If there was one person whose moral judgment Cassandra genuinely respected, it was Cullen, and it seemed Alec felt the same.

Cullen sighed so deeply she felt his chest vibrate. "That it wasn't easy. What Rainier did to his men… it was despicable. It's not something you can just wave off. And yet, he fought at our side. He lived as a Warden for years, doing good. I told Alec that it was up to him, that I couldn't tell him what to do." He laughed once, in a self-deprecating manner. "I'm afraid I wasn't very helpful."

"You gave him your honest opinion, as was your duty." Cassandra was unwilling to let him take any blame for this mess. "Alec is the Inquisitor. Someone has to make the hard decisions."

"True. But I don't envy him." Cullen sounded thoughtful. "I still don't know what I would have done about Rainier. Maybe Alec was right to give him another chance. Maybe we all deserve a little leniency. After all, we all have done things we regret."

"You're not comparing yourself to him, I hope." She had a hard time hiding her indignation. "You're nothing like him."

He chuckled. "Ah, Cassandra. How will I ever manage to live up to your good opinion of my character?"

"You’re already doing it, every minute of every day.” Her throat felt far too tight. "I know you, Cullen, and I love you just as you are."

"And I love you." He kissed her softly. "Thank you for believing in me. I promise I'll do my best to deserve it."

* * *

Their week in Ostwick had flown by far too quickly, the way those things were wont to do. In retrospect, it all seemed a blur to Alec: smiling faces, full of love; long, lazy evenings by the fireside; wild rides through the countryside with the younger folk; and sweet, sensual nights spent in Dorian's arms. It had been a wonderful week, and Alec had cried openly when they'd said their goodbyes. But at the same time, it was a relief to be on the road again, just the two of them, with long periods of blissful, companionable silence between them.

Persuading Dorian to take a detour to Vigil's Keep hadn't been easy, but Alec had been determined to take Nathaniel Howe up on his invitation to visit the Warden headquarters. He'd missed Nate, and he was eager to meet Megan Cousland in person. And really, they hardly had to go out of their way at all. A swift ship took them to Amaranthine, only half a day's ride from the Keep. And afterwards, they would simply take the North Road, which was well guarded and maintained.

Alec had written ahead to announce their visit, of course, so when they rode into the Keep's courtyard around noon, Nate was already waiting, greeting them enthusiastically. "Alec! It's great to see you. And you, too, Dorian." He called a stable hand over to take care of their horses. "Megan is out on patrol, but she should be back by nightfall. Your timing is perfect, as always."

The Keep was bustling with activity, scores of servants and traders mingling with the Wardens in their blue and silver armour. Nate took them to the kitchens for refreshments, then proceeded to show them around. They started with the impressive throne room and the chambers surrounding it, then made their way up to the upper floors.

"Ah, there you are." A young man was coming toward them on the winding staircase and Nate smiled tenderly at him. "Alec, Dorian, meet Carver Hawke."

"Inquisitor. It's an honour to have you here with us." Carver shook hands with Alec, then greeted Dorian just as politely.

Alec regarded the younger Hawke with considerable interest. He had the same black hair and dark skin as his brother, but there the resemblance ended. Carver Hawke's face was an open book, every emotion displayed as clearly as if it was written on his forehead. His eyes were a soft, dark brown, and his smile was sweet and guileless. And he was built like a true warrior. Alec was pretty sure he had never seen so much muscle on a human. His shoulders were wide and strong, and he exuded a raw, almost brute strength. And yet, Nate displayed a protective manner toward him that was utterly endearing.

At Nate's suggestion, Carver joined them on their tour of the Keep. Alec couldn't help but notice how much more relaxed Nate seemed in his lover's presence. They kept touching, nothing overtly sexual or suggestive, just two hands brushing against each other, or Nate's palm resting lightly on Carver's lower back as he followed him through a door. The two of them took turns explaining and pointing out interesting places. Both seemed to enjoy their role as guides. Carver was less knowledgeable about the Keep's history than Nate, but he, too, had a number of funny anecdotes to tell.

Vigil's Keep was a fascinating place, one of the oldest settlements in Ferelden according to Nate, originally built by the Avvar barbarians who had then ruled the country. The expert hand of dwarven craftsmen was clearly discernible in the stonework, and the living quarters were astonishingly comfortable. True, some of the younger Wardens were sleeping two to a room, but the senior Wardens had their own, well-appointed quarters. The Commander had a lovely suite of rooms on the Keep's uppermost floor, which she shared with Nate and Carver.

Dorian had been listening politely all through the tour, but his eyes truly lit up, when they entered the Keep's library.

Nate smiled at his expression. "My great-grandfather was a collector of rare books. I think you'll find many interesting old volumes here, but we're a bit less well-stocked when it comes to newer acquisitions. Either way, feel free to spend as much time here as you wish. It's a pleasant place."

Alec nodded. The library _did_ look very inviting. Apart from the rows and rows of bookshelves lining the walls, it was furnished with heavy armchairs, placed in a half-circle around an open fireplace.

A young man with reddish-blonde hair and long, lanky limbs was lounging in one of them, reading a book. A tiny orange tabby cat was curled up in his lap. He wasn't carrying a staff, but he was quite obviously a mage. Even if his soft woollen robes hadn't given him away, Alec would have known from Dorian's reaction, his soft, sudden intake of breath, the way his spine straightened as he instinctively reached for his own power. 

At the mage's feet, another man was sitting on the thick rug, resting his back against his legs in a position of casual intimacy, eyes half-closed as if he was dozing. No, not a man – an elf, and one of the most stunning members of his race Alec had ever come across. He had golden-brown skin, adorned by a number of beautifully executed tattoos, and long, silky blond hair that fairly begged to be petted. When the mage absent-mindedly ran his hand through it while turning a page, Alec felt almost envious.

"Anders, Zevran! Meet the Inquisitor and his companion, Dorian Pavus," Nate introduced them. "Anders is a fellow Warden, and one of the best healers you'll ever meet." Brushing off Anders' protests, he turned toward the elf.

But Zevran had already gotten to his feet, in a lithe, fluid motion that made everyone else in the room look slow and clumsy. "Zevran Arainai, formerly of the Antivan Crows, at your service, messeres." His pronounced Antivan accent only added to his exotic appeal.

He executed a small bow and flashed them a radiant smile. Alec and Dorian both smiled back, but, for all his obvious charm, Alec thought he could detect something darker and more menacing in the elf's demeanour, a suggestion of barely contained danger. Or maybe he was just imagining it, because Zevran had introduced himself as a trained assassin. It was hard to tell.

Anders seemed unwilling to abandon his book, so Nate bid him goodbye with an affectionate pat on his shoulder. "We'll see you at dinner. Megan should be back by then."

Alec yawned softly, wondering how much longer the tour would take, and Nate shot him an amused glance. "Had enough? Come on, there's one more thing I want to show you."

Down the stairs they went again, in the general direction of the kitchens, and Alec wondered where Nate was leading them, until he turned toward a pair of large doors and opened them with a flourish.

"Here you go. Our bathhouse." Nate smiled at their surprised faces. "You see, one of the best things about living at the Keep is that one of my ancestors spent a fortune on dwarven plumbing. We have hot and cold running water both down here and at the Commander's suite upstairs."

Taking a few hesitant steps inside, Alec inspected his surroundings, not bothering to hide his awed expression. "Maker, Nate. I'm jealous. If Skyhold had anything like this…"

Nate's grin widened. "Well, you might as well enjoy it while you're here. What do you think? We have a few hours left until dinnertime."

"Do you even have to ask?" With a happy sigh, Alec reached for the fastenings of his armour. "Lead the way."

* * *

Dorian couldn't believe his luck. A proper bathhouse, here, in the heart of Ferelden! It was a dream come true, and he intended to cherish every moment he had in there. Alec didn’t seem in a hurry to leave either.

They all stripped down quickly and headed for the two stone basins set into the bathhouse's floor. Dorian made a beeline for the smaller one, which was filled with steaming hot water and had a low bench running around its walls. He wasn't in the mood for swimming. All he wanted was to relax, so he lay back and closed his eyes, occasionally sneaking a peek through his lashes at Carver who was standing right next to him, scrubbing his magnificent body all over with a rough cloth.

_Sweet Andraste, he looks even bigger naked_! Dorian had to fight the urge to whistle in appreciation. Carver's shoulders and arms were massive from wielding a two-hander, but the muscles in his back and stomach were just as impressive, nicely defined under smooth, olive skin. His cock was proportional, too, Dorian verified with a quick glance, thick and heavy and dark against his strong thigh. He was built almost like a Qunari, but far prettier. Under different circumstances, Dorian would have loved to get his hands on him, but as things were, he was more than content to lie back and admire the view.

His mood darkened when he heard a peal of laughter from the other, larger basin. Alec and Nate had started a water fight over there, and they were splashing and tussling like puppies – only in this scenario it was very much Alec who was the puppy, and Nate as the leader of the pack. And Alec _liked_ it. Dorian knew him well enough to see it, the way he practically bared his throat when Nate wrestled him down, the breathless laughter, the unconscious flexing of his hips. Oh yes, Alec was enjoying himself tremendously, in more ways than one.

Dorian glared at them, unable to hide his annoyance, but of course they didn't even notice him, so caught up were they in their playful scuffle. He'd completely forgotten about Carver, until the younger Hawke slid into the water next to him with a pleased sigh.

"Ah. That's better. Can't get a moment's rest with those two mucking around like kids." He threw Dorian an unexpectedly perspicacious glance. "Don't worry." Tilting his head in their direction, he smiled that sweet, candid smile of his. "Nate wouldn't dream of touching Alec without your express permission."

"It seems to me that there is plenty of touching going on." Dorian knew he sounded grumpy, and he hated himself for it.

"You know what I mean." Carver cleared his throat. "Anyway, none of us would want to come between you two. I mean-" He blushed, as if he'd suddenly realized what exactly he'd said.

Almost against his will, Dorian grinned, but he quickly grew serious again. "What about you? Don't you mind?"

Carver stretched lazily, making Dorian swallow hard as muscles rippled all along his torso. "Nah. We've been with Megan for, what? Eight years? Nine? You can't do that without becoming a little flexible. It's fine. Nate may get a bit adventurous now and then, but he knows where he belongs. But hey, if you're really worried…"

He got to his feet, and before Dorian could guess what he was planning, he'd already stepped out of the tub and picked up one of the large water buckets that were lined up near the wall. Lifting it onto his shoulders with apparent ease, Carver carried it over to the adjacent basin, grinning back over his shoulder at Dorian. "I guess we'll have to cool them down a little."

And he poured the water in, all over Alec and Nate, ignoring their cries of outrage. It was icy cold, that much was obvious from their reaction, and Dorian couldn't hold back the laugh bubbling up inside him, not for the world.

"You shifty bastard!" Nate was out of the water already, chasing Carver over to the window, and Carver was running, crying for help, whenever he wasn't doubling up with laughter. He didn't really make much of an effort to get away, though. Dorian had little doubt that he could have outrun Nate, or at least stopped him from grabbing him in a headlock, if he'd wanted to, but instead Carver allowed himself to be dragged to the floor and held in a punishing grip. Nate was struggling to hold him down, torn between laughing and cursing, but let himself be appeased by a long, deep kiss. Carver arched into his embrace willingly, and Dorian was grateful that Nate dragged him out of the room before things could get even more heated.

"Maker's balls!" A shuddering Alec dropped into the tub next to him, looking rueful and chastened. "I guess it's true what they say about Wardens. _Fight hard, play harder._ I don't think I could keep up with them."

"Ah, _amatus_." With a pleased sigh, Dorian reached out to run his hand through Alec's wet hair, down to the nape of his neck. "You don't have to. All you need to be is you."

They shared a quick smile, doing their best to ignore the noises from next door. Clearly, Nate had forgiven Carver already.


	37. Chapter 37

Megan Cousland and her small patrol returned while they were at dinner. Dorian and Alec were sitting at a long trestle table in the Keep's large, noisy hall with Nate Howe and the Antivan, and they were deep in conversation when a commotion at the door made them look up.

The Commander was standing in the doorway, surveying her assembled Wardens with a proud, happy smile. _The Hero of Ferelden_. She was not at all what Dorian had imagined. A lot shorter, for a start, slim and slightly built, with a head full of tousled reddish hair and a freckled face that was far too cute to be called beautiful. She also looked really young, and surely, she had to be at least thirty? Her face lit up further when she saw them sitting there with Nate, and she quickly made her way toward them. But her path led her past another table, where Carver was sitting with the mage, Anders, and a couple of dwarves.

"Megan! You're back." Blocking her way with his muscular arm, Carver pulled her into his lap for an enthusiastic welcome, and she happily complied, kissing him long and deep, moulding her trim body against him. Nate smiled indulgently at the display.

When she came up for air, Anders playfully slapped her back. "That looks nice. Do I get a kiss as well?"

"If you insist." Grinning widely, Megan leaned over to kiss him sweetly on the lips, lingering a little longer than seemed strictly appropriate among friends.

Nate sighed in mock despair. "Anders! Stop distracting Megan, or I'll come and get her myself." There was no trace of anger in his voice, though, and it was clear there would be no hard feelings.

"Indeed." Next to him, Zevran was grinning as well. "The Commander has enough on her plate, _caro_. Come up with me, if you're feeling frisky, and I'll gladly help you out."

A low murmur of laughter rose from the assembled Wardens. Dorian felt his eyebrow shoot up. Megan Cousland laughed with them as she got to her feet, with a quick, obscene gesture in Zevran's direction. Briefly, Dorian entertained himself by imagining Cassandra's reaction to such a behaviour. The Warden Commander of Ferelden clearly wasn't overly worried about discipline, nor did she care what people thought of her love life. _Well, good for her._

And here she was, embracing Nate tightly, gazing deep into his eyes for a moment before turning to face her guests. "Inquisitor. How lovely to finally meet you." Her smile as she set eyes on Alec was like a bright ray of sunshine.

"Lady Megan." Alec jumped to his feet and inclined his head in a graceful bow, far more deferential than Dorian had ever seen him. _Of course. She's a teyrn's daughter, and the Arlessa of Amaranthine as well._ Dorian hadn't really thought of it in those terms, but Megan Cousland indeed far outranked the son of plain Bann Trevelyan. "It's an honour to meet the Hero of Ferelden." Alec smiled shyly at her.

"Pish!" Megan laughed merrily, shaking her unruly mop of hair. "None of that lady business. Call me Megan. And I am just as _honoured_." Was that a suggestive wink at Alec? "And delighted to make your acquaintance. You know, for some reason, Nate completely failed to mention how handsome you are. And your companion, too. _Altus_ Pavus, it's my pleasure." She aimed another one of those smiles at Dorian. "Why don't the two of you join me and the guys in our suite for a glass of wine later? I'd _love_ to get to know you better."

_Me and the guys._ A vision of Carver's muscular arms flashed before Dorian's inner eye and he swallowed involuntarily before mumbling a reply. _We'd better be careful or we'll end up doing something we'll regret later. That woman is far too relaxed for her own good._

Zevran seemed to have read his thoughts. While Megan turned her attention back to Alec and began questioning him about Skyhold and the Inquisition, he chuckled softly in Dorian's ear. "Ah, Megan. May she never change, Maker bless her."

"You were with her during the Blight, weren't you?" Clearing his throat, Dorian turned to face the assassin, who was regarding him with barely disguised amusement.

"Yes. I was her friend and lover back then." Zevran's grin had become even wider and looked a bit feral. "Wardens have big appetites, you know."

"Oh." Dorian couldn't deny that he was a little taken aback by the assassin's candour. "But nowadays…"

"I'm with Anders." Zevran smiled over at the mage who appeared to be engaged in a friendly spell casting contest with a tall Dalish woman with blonde hair and cool, green eyes. "But Megan will always be a _very_ good friend."

Dorian nodded, feeling slightly dizzy at the amount of innuendo whirling over his head. "Is it true that you are an Antivan Crow?"

"Was," Zevran corrected him with a cheerful grin. "Yes. My original task was to kill the Warden and her companions. Well, you can see how _that_ has worked out for me."

Dorian was lost for an answer. But fortunately, Zevran didn't seem to expect one, just went on chatting, while casually cleaning his nails with the tip of his vicious dagger. "So… if the rumours are to be believed, several of Megan's old friends have joined the Inquisition, yes? I have to confess that I am intrigued by the thought."

"If you're referring to Leliana, yes, she is our spymaster." Dorian had a sneaking suspicion that he sounded stiff and pompous, but he found Zevran more than a little unnerving. What did the assassin _want_? Was this all part of a secret plan of his?

"Dearest Leliana. Always full of secrets." Zevran grinned without a trace of humour. "And Morrigan also joined your ranks for a while, yes? Ah, I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when those two met again. You weren't present, by any chance?"

_Ah, gossip_. Dorian relaxed a little. _This_ he could do. He was fairly certain he could give Zevran a run for his money when it came to trading juicy anecdotes. Besides, he was actually curious to learn more. "Unfortunately not. But it seems as if there's a story behind your question, my Antivan friend," he said aloud. "Please, tell me more."

* * *

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Cullen looked from one face to the other, trying to gauge the mood of the ladies assembled around the war table. They had kept up their daily meetings in Alec's absence. It was a good opportunity to discuss any small problems that came up and, besides, they all enjoyed a good chat.

When he'd arrived with Cassandra, a little late for the meeting, Josephine and Leliana had been in the middle of an animated conversation, conducted in rapid, fluent Orlesian. They had quickly fallen silent at the sight of him, and his command of the language was less than perfect. But if he had correctly interpreted the few snatches he'd caught, they had been gossiping about his qualities as a lover, based on how happy Cassandra had been looking lately.

Cullen wasn't sure how to feel about that, actually. A bit annoyed, certainly, but also kind of flattered. Either way, it was probably best to pretend that he had no clue.

"Josephine. Leliana." He nodded at both of them with a friendly, innocuous smile. "Any news?"

Leliana returned his glance, looking slightly suspicious. _Maybe I need to tone down the innocent look_. None of them were likely to be fooled by him in the long run, after all.

The spymaster pointed at the map. "One of our agents claims to have spotted Morrigan and her son heading for the Brecilian Forest. I'm not sure he's to be trusted, though. I doubt she'd be travelling so openly."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. She hadn't been happy about Morrigan's disappearance. It had to be an uncomfortable reminder of her own unsuccessful attempts to locate Hawke and the Warden. "We should still keep track of that rumour."

"Of course." Leliana's tone made it more than clear that she didn't appreciate being told how to do her job. "I will keep you all informed."

Cullen nodded. "What about Solas? Any sightings?"

"Nothing." Leliana shook her head. "No one has seen him, no one has heard from him. It's as if he's disappeared from Thedas altogether."

"How curious." Josephine shook her head. "Would you like me to write to some of my contacts, to see if they can help us out?"

"I don't think so." Leliana sounded thoughtful. "I appreciate the offer, Josie, but if he doesn't wish to be found, there's probably not a lot we can do. And I'd rather not draw attention to his absence, if it can be avoided."

"True." Cullen was glad to let the matter rest for now. And yet, he had an odd feeling that they hadn't seen the last of Solas yet.

* * *

Megan's suite was cosy and warm, and the Nevarran red Nate had liberally poured into their glasses was excellent. Almost three hours had passed when Alec first glanced at the clock on the mantel, and he couldn't believe it. Time had simply flown by, with all the tales there were to tell. Megan had given a full account of the final battle against the Archdemon, and in return, he'd described Corypheus' dragon in vivid detail. Apparently Megan was just as curious about Alec's exploits as he himself had always been about the tales of the Blight, and that thought was more than a little flattering.

Carver was very quiet, mostly listening, as Megan and Alec talked of their adventures, occasionally interrupted by a wry comment from Nate Howe.

But when Alec came to the end of his tale, he grew too agitated to keep silent any longer. "Flemeth! The Witch of the Wilds? Are you sure it was her?"

"Positive. She introduced herself." Alec couldn't quite keep a patronizing tone from creeping into his voice. "You know about her?"

Carver shivered. "There were… tales about her, when I grew up. And my brother and I ran into her after Ostagar, when we were on our way to Kirkwall."

"Really?" Alec hadn't expected this, and he was curious now, leaning forward in his seat. "What happened?"

"Well, we didn't know it was her, at first." Carver's laugh sounded a little forced and his hands were shaking even at the memory. "Might be because she had turned into a dragon before showing up."

Dorian cut in with an impatient huff. "A dragon! That's impossible."

"I wouldn't know about that." Carver was clearly uncomfortable with being the centre of attention. "She saved us from the darkspawn, actually. Well, almost all of us." A brief flash of pain crossed his face. "From one moment to the other, there was this huge lizard breathing down fire on our enemies, just as we were about to be defeated. And then she landed and turned into a lady. Scared the crap out of me."

"But how-" Dorian shook his head, but Alec motioned for him to be quiet.

"Go on, Carver. What did she want from you?" He did his best to sound warm and soothing.

Carver shrugged. "Not much. She asked Revon to take an amulet to Sundermount for her and deliver it to the Dalish Keeper there. I've no idea whether Revon went through with it. We… weren't on speaking terms anymore by the time he found the elves."

"But you've met Flemeth, too, haven't you, Meg?" Nate chimed in.

"Yes. Right after Ostagar. She and Morrigan saved us when the battle was lost. And later, Morrigan asked me to-" Megan broke off. "Those are old stories. If Morrigan had wanted you to know about them, no doubt she would have told you herself."

Alec cleared his throat. "Yeah, well… She wasn't exactly forthcoming with information. Anyway, when we met Flemeth, she seemed mostly interested in Morrigan's son, Kieran."

"Oh Maker, yes, the child." Megan's face had taken on a curious expression. "He must be nine or ten years old, right? Did he… is he okay?"

Alec nodded. "Yes. He's a bright little lad. Do you-" He hesitated, but then decided to be blunt. "Do you know who his father is?"

"I do, yes." This time, Megan seemed distinctly amused, as she exchanged a quick look with Nathaniel. "But I'm not telling you. What did Flemeth want from the boy?"

"I'm not sure. It was all very confusing." Alec shuddered. "If what Morrigan said is true, Flemeth _is_ in fact Mythal."

"The elven goddess! Maker!" There was no longer even the faintest trace of amusement in Megan's expression. "So she's been toying with all of us, all this time? She's manipulated all of us?"

"That's what she does, apparently." Alec laughed, though it wasn't really funny. "She straight up told us. _I nudge history, when it's required_."

Nate had grown pale as well. "But how is that even possible? How can she be alive after all this time?"

"She said something about having _carried Mythal through the ages_. Yeah, I don't claim to understand it either, Nate." Alec sighed wearily. "Anyway, she… She took something from Kieran. _Something old_ , she said. It was a kind of spark, some sort of-"

"I know what it was." Megan shuddered all over. "Did she… Did she harm the boy?"

"No." Alec shook his head, confused by the violence of her reaction. "We went back home, and that was that. Even Morrigan was surprised by what had happened. She was furious, but there wasn't a thing she could do to stop her mother. As for myself… I've no idea what happened there, to be honest."

"You're not the only one, _amatus_." Dorian valiantly came to his defence. "I still can't make sense of it either."

Megan's eyes were wary. "Well, maybe that's for the best. It's never wise to meddle in the affairs of immortals."

Alec laughed ruefully. "True. I, for one, have had enough of elven gods to last me a lifetime."

"And I don't blame you. Anyway, you survived and you closed the Breach, and that's all that counts, right?" Megan flashed him a radiant smile and got to her feet. "That's a lovely scarf you have there, by the way." Suddenly she was right before Alec, running her hand over the smooth velvet of his moss green scarf.

That close, he could breathe in her scent, and it made him dizzy. Staring into her eyes, he mumbled something incomprehensible, thrown by the sudden change of topic. Behind him, Dorian audibly cleared his throat, shaking him out of his trance.

Megan took a step back, stretching lasciviously. "It's late. I'd better show you two to your room. Unless…" A sudden mischievous grin flitted over her freckled face. "Unless you would like to stay a little longer? Get even cosier?"

Alec almost laughed out loud at the scandalized expression on Dorian's face. He was staring at Megan as if she'd suddenly conjured a rabbit from thin air.

Megan exchanged a quick glance with Alec. "Ah, probably not. I thought as much, to be honest. Such a pity."

She took them to a pleasant, airy room just down the hallway. A fire was burning in the hearth and the big four-poster in the corner looked quite inviting.

"Good night, Alec. Dorian. Let me know if you ever change your mind." Megan left with another cheeky wink. "And sleep well."

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

As soon as the door to their room fell shut behind Megan, Dorian turned to face Alec, his moustache quivering with indignation. "Did she really just suggest what I think she did?"

"She may have been joking." Alec found his reaction rather endearing. "Though I'm not really sure."

Dorian shook his head, looking stunned. " _Five_ people sharing a bed? That's a bit much, even for a relaxed moral standard, don't you think?"

Alec nodded dutifully, but if he was honest, his imagination was more than a little tickled by the idea. Turning away to face the wall, he began to take off his clothes, his mind filled with enticing images _: he himself, caught up between Megan and Nate; two warm bodies, one soft and curvy, the other hard and strong; Nate's hoarse voice, whispering filthy suggestions in his ear, while Megan moaned under him. And at the same time, an exciting view of Dorian as he worked his magic on Carver's strong, muscular body, sparks dancing over smooth, dark skin, both of them so beautiful, so incredibly hot._ Alec hadn't missed Dorian's admiring glances at the younger Hawke, and he really couldn't blame him. Carver was stunning, and imagining him with Dorian did interesting things to Alec.

"A copper for your thoughts?" Dorian, already half undressed, embraced him from behind, holding him tight and breathing a kiss on his neck.

Against his will, Alec blushed fiercely. "Nothing in particular."

"No?" Dorian's hand trailed downward, cupping him through his smalls. "That's a pretty strong reaction for someone thinking about _nothing in particular_." There was a low, dangerous purr to his voice that inflamed Alec even further. "You're not still... considering the Commander's friendly offer, by any chance?"

"I…" Alec wasn't sure what to reply. Would Dorian be mad at him if he admitted what he was thinking about? He'd been so jealous in the past, and Alec had vowed not to give him any more reason.

"Well. Are you?" Dorian's touch got more insistent and Alec could feel his smalls grow damp. "Tell me, _amatus_."

"Damn it, Dorian." With a groan, Alec thrust into Dorian's grip. "Yes, I was fantasizing about them. About you, too. Happy now?"

"Mmhmm." Dorian bit down on his earlobe. He sounded languid, as if he, too, was imagining interesting scenarios. "I thought that might be the case. And I have to say I am relieved that I still feature in your daydreams."

"Always." Alec's moans turned into stifled gasps when Dorian shoved his smalls roughly down, removing the last barrier between them.

His right hand firmly encircled Alec's cock. "So you still want me? Just me?"

"Only you." Alec glanced down at Dorian's hand, and the sight of those long graceful fingers wrapped around his own flesh was nearly enough to make him faint. "Please, Dorian. Do what you want with me, anything, just please-"

"Anything I want? That's a tempting offer. Well, then…" With an impatient growl, Dorian nudged Alec's feet further apart and made him lean forward, with both hands against the wall. "Yes, just like that. Hold still, _amatus_."

He let go of Alec for a heartbeat to grab some oil from their luggage, but he was back immediately. His right hand resumed its hold on Alec’s cock, while his left found its way between his legs from behind.

"Let me take care of you." And now he was _really_ working at Alec, with a single-minded focus that was immensely exciting.

Closing his eyes, Alec delivered himself completely to his caresses, while allowing his mind to linger on the pictures he'd conjured up earlier: _Megan's face scrunched up in ecstasy when he tasted her; Nate's low growl as he shoved Alec aside to take his place; two pairs of hands caressing every inch of his body. And of course, Dorian's fevered moans and sighs in the background; Dorian's eyes catching his while he guided Carver's head lower; Dorian's beautiful body, trembling all over with lust._

Alec had had his fair share of erotic fantasies, featuring both men and women, but this particular scenario was hotter than anything he'd ever come up with on his own. He wished he could share it with Dorian, in all its glorious detail, wished he could somehow make his lover see what he was seeing. Because there was no way he could ever bring himself to put it into words. He could manage a bit of dirty talk when things got really heated, but-

Dorian twisted his fingers just so, and Alec forgot how to breathe. "Dorian, please." His voice sounded strangled. "Now."

"Not yet." Dorian was breathless and flushed, but he was clearly happy to draw things out a little longer. "You're not begging properly yet."

"Oh, come on!" Shamelessly, Alec pushed himself back. "I said please, didn't I?"

"Yes." Dorian's grip tightened almost imperceptibly, and the added intensity made him yelp. "But you can do better."

"Pretty please." Alec almost whined, feeling his legs beginning to shake. "I can't-"

"You can't? But you are still coherent." Dorian was nuzzling his neck now, without ever relinquishing his tight hold on Alec's favourite body parts, and it felt good, so good, hot and sweet.

"No, I'm not. I-" Again, Alec whimpered, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the wall. "Damn it, you wouldn't be so cool and collected if Carver was here to-" He broke off, suddenly afraid to have broken the mood.

A shiver went through Dorian's whole body. "To do what?" Biting down hard on Alec's shoulder, he took hold of his hips and finally, finally, pushed inside him, inch by tremulous inch. "Tell me, _amatus_. What exactly is he doing to me in your fantasy?"

The sudden surge of relief was so great Alec nearly lost his balance. It was all good; Dorian understood, Dorian knew what was going on in his head, and he didn't mind. "He… he's got his mouth on you. And you love it." He moaned brokenly, because Dorian was all the way inside him now, and he felt better than anything else in the world.

"Do I?" Dorian's voice was like cool silk in his ear. "Yes, I rather think I might. Hypothetically speaking, of course."

One quick sharp thrust, another bite, and Alec lost it completely, begging and crying and shaking all over. And Dorian held him tight, moving inside him with sinuous grace, but at the same time with enough force to make it clear he was claiming Alec as his. Alec heard it as clearly as if the words were spoken. _You're mine, mine, mine._

* * *

Dorian was far too caught up in the moment to analyse his feelings with any kind of clarity. Alec was hot and tight around him, and the sight of him, the perfect curve of his back, the muscles playing in his arms as he braced himself against the wall… It was beyond hot and Dorian was only too glad to let himself be carried away by his desire for his beloved.

But at the same time, he was dimly aware of a host of contradictory feelings struggling within his chest: wild, raw triumph at what he could do to Alec; infinite love and tenderness; and yes, also a hint of possessiveness, but it was almost completely cancelled out by sheer excitement. Because that fantasy, that image that Alec's words had conjured up, was incredibly hot. Once upon a time, he'd have been too scared of losing Alec to even allow such thoughts to rise to the surface. But they could do this now, they could share such a fantasy, and he didn't have to be afraid of it, because Alec was his, only his. And Alec would never betray him, never desert him.

He felt safe with Alec, safe and secure, and at the same time there was no danger of boredom, none at all, not with the way Alec was squirming in his arms, tightening around him, so utterly perfect that he had to cling to his last shreds of control in order not to cry out loud. It was so good, and he wanted to come, he was so close already… He hung on by virtue of sheer determination, and in the end it was Alec who came first, spilling all over the wall panels, trembling like a leaf. Dorian followed him quickly, with a deep, rough groan torn from the back of his throat.

They quickly cleaned up the embarrassing evidence of their activities. _Though I rather doubt anyone here would be particular shocked by it_ , a small, dry voice whispered in Dorian's mind. If what they'd seen so far was any indication, the Wardens took their pleasures without much regard for propriety, and the servants couldn't afford to be too delicate in their sensibilities.

_Five people!_ Dorian mentally shook his head at the thought of Megan's implied suggestion. Of course he'd seen worse in Minrathous, all kinds of more or less creative orgies arranged for the pleasure of jaded magisters, and involving pretty young slave girls and boys, more often than not. At least in _this_ case, all the participants would have been willing. _More than willing, probably_. Still, he hadn't expected such a suggestion from people who had dedicated their lives to the lofty goal of saving the world from the Blight.

Then again, a Warden's life was hard enough to justify the occasional excess. Dorian wasn't fooled by Megan's light-hearted attitude, not at all. The Inquisition's occasional encounters with darkspawn during their travels, in the Western Approach or down on the Storm Coast, had taught him a healthy respect of those twisted creatures, and he couldn't even imagine having to deal with them on a daily basis. Besides, there were rumours of other sacrifices the Wardens had to make, such as shortened lifespans and frequent nightmares. No, he didn't envy them, that much was certain.

His curiosity was tickled, however. Tomorrow he would explore the library a bit, see if he could find more information on blights and archdemons, on joinings and the Taint. A few chats with the other Wardens might be interesting, too. The dwarves he'd seen at the dinner table had seemed quite congenial, and the elven mage was bound to know some interesting spells. And maybe they could spend some more time in the baths… Yes, he was rather looking forward to another day at Vigil's Keep. He stretched contentedly, smiling to himself.

"Well?" Alec grinned at him slyly, suppressing a yawn. "Glad we came here after all?"

"So far." Dorian felt his lips twitch. "But by all means feel free to keep up your efforts to convince me."

"Will do." Alec stretched languorously, drawing Dorian's gaze to his toned chest and flat stomach. _So lovely_. "Come to bed now."

It took a moment to sort out their legs and arms, but soon they were comfortably entangled under the blanket, skin to skin, close and warm. And Alec felt so _good_ , and their bodies fit so perfectly together. Dorian couldn't get enough of holding him tight.

Alec's smile was sweet, and his eyes were already falling shut. "I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I do." Dorian breathed a kiss on Alec's cheek. _Maker, what have I done to deserve him?_ "I love you, too. Always."

* * *

The knock on her door came late in the evening, but before Cullen had joined her in her room for the night, so Cassandra was on her own and still fully dressed. She opened the door with a confused frown. Who-

"Leliana! What brings you here at such a late hour? Do you have news from the Conclave?" She felt a small frisson of excitement at the thought.

"Nothing official, but I received a number of detailed reports from Val Royeaux today and I wanted to keep you in the loop." Leliana's expression was unreadable. "The election will be held in just a few days, on the first day of Drakonis."

 "Well, then I assume congratulations are in order." Cassandra smiled, but Leliana's face remained just as stoic. "Come on, Leliana. Surely, it is just a formality. I told them I wasn't interested, so the Clerics will all gather behind you now."

But Leliana shook her head. "No, my dear. Not at all. You see, they've found a candidate who is more to their taste than I am, from what my spies tell me."

Cassandra had a sinking feeling in her stomach. "But who-"

"I think you can guess." Leliana's eyes had narrowed and her tone was dry. "Didn't Vivienne inform you of her plans?"

"Not in so many words. She made several cryptic remarks, when we talked, but it just seemed like one of her usual games." _Oh Maker, please don't let it be true._ Cassandra bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. "Besides, I'd assumed that the Grand Clerics would never even consider electing a mage."

"Yeah, well." If possible, Leliana sounded even more sardonic. "It seems they are willing to make an exception for this particular mage."

"But, surely you still have a majority behind you." Cassandra could tell from Leliana's grim expression that she was grasping at straws, but some part of her still found it hard to believe that Vivienne would stand a chance of becoming Divine. "And the election hasn't been held yet, so-"

"Don't fool yourself, Cassandra." Leliana crossed her arms before her body, cradling her elbows. "It's already settled. I have no idea how, but Vivienne has persuaded about two thirds of the Grand Clerics to vote for her. I have reliable sources. Trust me."

"But there'll be an uproar if she's appointed." Cassandra had to sit down. "The common people won't stand for it."

Leliana shrugged. "There'll likely be protests, a number of riots perhaps. A schism, if we're really unlucky. But trust me, Vivienne won't let go of that power again. They don't call her _Madame de Fer_ for nothing."

Cassandra felt an icy cold shiver down her spine. "You think she'll keep the upper hand?"

"Yes. She's clever and she won't be bothered by scruples if someone gets in her way. Just you wait. Within a year, at the very latest, we will see the Circles reinstated, and the Templars back on guard duty." Leliana sounded calm and matter-of-fact, but her face wore an expression of sheer, naked disgust.

"You think it's my fault." Cassandra swallowed. "And rightly so. If I'd at least tried…"

"What? No. That's nonsense, and you know it." Leliana's whole demeanour changed at her words. Suddenly, she sounded almost gentle. "I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was implying anything of that kind, Cassandra. You did what you had to do, and I'm glad on your behalf that you refused. Besides…" She sighed deeply. "If _I_ couldn't outwit her, what makes you think you would have been more successful? Vivienne is a true mistress of the Game. She knew what she was doing, all along, and we were all just pawns in her grand plan." There was more than a little admiration in her tone, despite her evident frustration.

"Is that really what you think?" Cassandra fixed the spymaster with a relentless glare. She didn't want to be pampered and consoled, not by Leliana.

"Yes." Leliana's sober expression turned into a warm, sweet smile. "You did the right thing, Cassandra. You will still have a chance to fight for what you believe in. And you will have Cullen at your side. Together, you will be stronger."

"Let's pray that it will be enough." Cassandra swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Leliana. We probably ought to let Alec know, too."

Leliana nodded. "I'll send a raven to Vigil's Keep tomorrow, and ask him to come back as soon as he can." She turned to go, and her face disappeared behind the folds of her hood. " As for the rest… Don't worry too much. There's power in working from the shadows, too. I think our new Divine will find that the Inquisition is still very much a force to be reckoned with."


	39. Chapter 39

Alec and Dorian had intended to stay at Vigil's Keep for a few days, maybe a week. Neither of them had any plans beyond hanging around and chatting by the fireside, and Alec was quite happy with the prospect. After the year that lay behind them, an extended vacation was just what they needed.

But when they came down for breakfast in the morning, Megan was talking to a messenger in the Great Hall, looking visibly upset. She arrived late for the meal and still appeared preoccupied as she reached for the large platter of bacon in the middle of the table. In the bright, unflattering light of the early morning, fine worry lines were visible on her forehead. For the first time since Alec had met her, she actually looked her age.

"What's the matter?" Alec liked Megan, and seeing her like this made him want to help. "Bad news?"

"Demons have been sighted in the Blackmarsh." Yes, Megan was definitely not happy. "A swamp not far from here. We've had trouble with tears in the Veil there before." She exchanged a look with Nate, who looked just as concerned. "I thought we'd fixed them, but apparently…"

"You fixed tears in the Veil?" Alec was impressed. "I didn't know that was possible without an anchor." He lifted his left hand awkwardly to show what he was talking about. "Either way, if the Veil is thin there, it's very possible that new rifts have opened in the wake of the Breach. I could help you out, if you want."

"Of course!" Megan's face lit up. "I keep forgetting that we have an expert on Fade rifts staying with us. Would you come along? Last time, we had to travel into the Fade to mend the tears, and even if we could manage again, I'd rather do without the experience."

"I don't blame you." Alec nodded soberly. "When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as we can make it." Megan seemed determined. "We'll need a few more people than for a routine patrol, I think. I want Carver and Oghren with us, and Anders, too. He's good with demons."

"You want to do this yourself?" Nate was at her side, ready to set things in motion. "Because I could-"

"I wouldn't want to miss the chance to see the Inquisitor in action." She smiled apologetically at him. "I'm afraid I'll need you to stay behind and take care of things here."

Nate nodded. He did look a little disappointed, Alec noticed, but it clearly didn't occur to him to question Megan's orders. "Will you be all right?"

"Of course." Megan reached up to gently stroke his stubbly cheek. "After all, we'll still have a master archer with us, right?" She beamed at Alec, and it made him feel all nice and warm inside. It was flattering to be compared to Nate.

"What about you, Dorian?" Carver was smiling shyly at the mage. "Will you come along as well?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world." Dorian yawned and stretched languorously. "Maker knows, I was beginning to get bored without demons attacking us." He winked at Alec who grinned back.

It didn't take them long to put together what they needed. Before noon, they were well on their way to the Blackmarsh, and when they made camp at night, they were already a good ways into the damp, desolate marshland. They picked a spot where the ground wasn't too soggy and the air smelled only vaguely of decay. But even so, the area uncomfortably reminded Alec of the Fallow Mire and he worried about Dorian, who looked less than happy. _I bet he already regrets coming along._

It was hard to imagine that only half a day's ride from them, the comforts of Vigil's Keep were waiting. Still, when the fire was finally burning and they'd all gathered round it, it wasn't actually too bad, Alec thought. At least it wasn't raining, and if he squinted a little, the ruins of the old mansion behind their camp looked almost romantic.

"Who used to live there?" Dorian pointed at the scorched remnants of what must have been a handsome estate.

Oghren, the dwarf, made a rude noise, and Megan sighed. "They called her the Baroness. She was the ruler of the Blackmarsh during the Orlesian occupation. A proud woman. And a blood mage, or so the peasants claimed."

"A powerful demon, by the time we met her." Anders sounded uncharacteristically sober. "We'd never have beaten her without Justice's help."

Alec's throat tightened at this reminder of the spirit who had possessed Revon Hawke and who had sacrificed himself to save them in the Fade. "I'm sorry, you know. About Justice."

"Don't be." Anders shrugged, but he favoured Alec with a kind smile. "Whatever happened at Adamant, he's back in the Fade, where he belongs. He was never meant to be here, with us."

"True." Megan's face had darkened, and her voice quivered with fury. "I should have stopped Revon. I should never have allowed-"

"Shhh, Meg. There was nothing you could do." Carver put an arm around her and pulled her close. "If anyone is to blame it's me, for bringing my asshole of a brother to the Keep."

"That's not true." Megan's expression softened immediately. "Nothing he did is your fault. Maker knows, you didn't choose to be his brother."

Carver didn't reply, just kissed her cheek with infinite gentleness. Megan sighed and turned her head slightly until their lips met. It was a brief, tender kiss, incredibly intimate, but nothing ostentatious or inappropriate.

"You're right." Megan huddled further into Carver's embrace. "No use getting worked up about this."

Alec was surprised how quickly she had calmed down. So far, Carver had rarely gotten involved in their conversations, but he'd instinctively known what Megan needed to hear in order to forget her anger. _He may not be as charismatic as Nate, but he's clearly just as important to her. But then, we all need someone to share the load, don't we?_

As if he'd read his thoughts, Dorian glanced over at him and tilted his head toward the tents. "We'd better call it a night. After all, we need to be well rested tomorrow."

There was a murmur of agreement, and they all headed for their bedrolls.

* * *

As soon as the sun was up again, they found the rift without any trouble, much to Dorian's relief. It wasn't actually too bad, as far as those things went. Alec and Dorian knew exactly what to do, and the Wardens were experienced fighters who worked well together. Oghren and Carver wielded their two-handers with brutal efficiency, mowing down demons like grass. Anders had a solid repertoire of elemental spells, but Dorian was pleased to see that he wasn't quite as skilled at them as he was at healing. He couldn't resist showing off a little himself, raining fiery missiles and icicles down on the demons and eliminating a fair number of them before they could attack the warriors from up close.

As for Megan… Dorian had never seen anybody move with such incredible stealth and speed, except maybe for Cole, who had the added advantage of his spirit nature. Even without supernatural help, Megan somehow seemed to be in two places at the same time, appearing from out of nowhere to bury her daggers deep into their enemies' backs, then sneaking off into the shadows again for another lightning-fast attack.

Alec kept at the back with the mages, sending arrow after arrow into the fray, until he finally stepped forward to close the rift. He flinched a little as the mark flared up, but apart from that, he went through the moves like clockwork. _Well, he's certainly had enough practice._ Dorian himself was so used to the sight that he hardly noticed it, but their companions were a different story.

Megan's eyes widened, but she refrained from commenting. Carver cried out briefly and then fell silent, while Oghren burped and turned away with an expression that vacillated between grim satisfaction and disgust.

Anders, however, didn't even bother to hide his amazement. "Andraste's knickerweasels! Will you look at that!" He bounded over to Alec's side with the look of an excited puppy. "You just welded it shut. How is that possible?" He hesitated for a moment. "Can I… Can I have a look?"

Dorian half expected Alec to send him off with a stern warning, but to his surprise, he nodded, extending his palm toward Anders. The mark was still pulsing, and the mage was careful with it, examining it with the lightest of touches.

"Does it hurt?" Anders' voice sounded different now, his usual bantering tone replaced with a warm, soothing cadence. "When you use it to close the rifts?"

Alec shook his head. "Not any more. It was very painful at first, but Solas did something to it to make it better. Now, it's merely uncomfortable."

Anders nodded, but there was a frown on his face. Focussing on Alec's palm, he muttered a spell under his breath. "Better now?"

"Maker, yes." Alec shivered. "I hadn't even noticed… But yes, it feels better. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Anders still looked serious. "I daren't do more, to be honest. I have no idea how it would react to more powerful healing magic. It seems quiet now, but it's basically unstable and-" He broke off, glancing at Megan who motioned impatiently for him to continue. "It may get worse in the future, and I don't think there's much to be done about that." He let go of Alec's hand with an apologetic shrug. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Alec clearly did his best to put on a brave face, and Dorian felt a strong urge to hug him. "Thanks, Anders. And as for the future-"

"I don't think there's much point in worrying about it," Megan interrupted him, with a pointed look at Anders. "Come on. Let's get back home."

They returned to Vigil's Keep without further incidents.

Nathaniel was already waiting for them in the yard, catching Megan in his arms as she slid off her horse. "Well? Did you deal with the rift?"

"We sure did." Megan's face shone with pride and affection. "Alec and Dorian were amazing. Anything interesting happen while we were away?"

"Nothing much." Nathaniel handed Alec a roll of paper. "But a raven brought this for you. News from Skyhold, I assume."

Alec quickly unrolled the sheet of paper and read the message, cursing under his breath. "Yes. We won't be able to stay much longer, I'm afraid. They'll need us back there, when the news breaks." He raised his head and looked Dorian straight in the eye. "It seems Vivienne is going to be the next Divine."

* * *

Cullen still wasn't quite comfortable with spending the night in Cassandra's quarters. It wasn't because there was anything particularly feminine about them – Cassandra wasn't given to frilly decorations, and if it hadn't been for her books, there would have been hardly any personal touches at all. But he was still wary of intruding into her own space, still worried she might end up rejecting him after all. She had finally persuaded him to have his roof mended, though, and they could hardly sleep in the loft as long as the workmen were busy.

Carefully, he put his cloak on a rack in the corner and proceeded to take off his armour and the padding he wore underneath. It was a relief. Lately, the heavy plates had been weighing him down. Cullen frowned. It was high time he made an effort to get into better shape again. This morning, when he and Krem had demonstrated a series of slashes and parries to the new recruits, he'd taken a wrong step and nearly gone to the ground. He'd managed to stay on his feet, but he'd had to twist around awkwardly, and his back still ached.

Cassandra must have seen him flinch. Stepping closer, she placed a warm hand on his lower back. "You're in pain."

"It's nothing." He winced as she pressed harder. "Blight it, I'm getting too old for this."

Cassandra snorted. "Too old? Not likely. All you need is a massage and some rest, and maybe a more extensive training schedule in the long run."

"Yeah, well." He glared at her, because of course she was right. "It's not as if we can just take a spa day."

Another snort, but this time it sounded almost tender. "We don't need a spa, Cullen. Lie down on the bed."

Turning away from him, she began to rummage around in her nightstand. When he didn't move right away, she gave him a sharp look. "Go on. Lie down. On your stomach first."

He opened his mouth to contradict her, but then thought better of it. It was a far too tempting offer, and besides, it would have been rude to say no. Stripping off his remaining underclothes, he lay down, burying his face in the pillow. It took a moment until she joined him, and he felt his skin tingle with gooseflesh as he tried to anticipate her next move.

He'd expected her to start slowly, with his calves maybe. So when she straddled his back, her strong, warm thighs framing his body on both sides, he was more than a little surprised to realize that she was completely naked. Clearly, this was going to be about more than just pain relief, and the thought made him perk up immediately. He wiggled a little below her to accommodate his budding erection, but Cassandra responded with a light slap on his back.

"Lie still." Her tone was strict and unyielding, and _that_ was actually _really_ exciting.

He bit back a moan as she poured a generous amount of scented oil over his back and began working it into his skin. Cassandra's fingers were strong and capable, and she didn't play around. When she dug them deep into his tight muscles, he almost yelped, but it was a good, clean kind of pain, and he wanted nothing more than for her to go on. It felt so good, the stiffness melting away under her touch, everything warm and heavy and relaxed at last.

Well, not _everything_. When she nudged him to turn over, he blushed like a school boy, because there was no hiding his arousal. Cassandra made a small, pleased noise, but then proceeded to knead his thighs thoroughly, completely ignoring his rock hard cock, bobbing only inches from her face. The corners of her mouth were turned up in a faint smile, though, and he suspected she rather enjoyed knowing what she was doing to him.

He was panting by now, his chest covered in a deep flush, and he wondered how much longer she was going to keep this up. More than anything, he wanted to take hold of her, to flip her over and drive her deep into the mattress, but when he tried to sit up, a sudden stab of pain reminded him of the original purpose of the massage.

"I told you to lie still." Yes, Cassandra was definitely smirking now, running her hands all over his stomach, but still not touching him where he wanted it most. "Relax and leave it all to me. I promise you shall not go wanting."

He must have whimpered at her words, because she laughed softly, bending over him to breathe a kiss on his forehead. And Maker, her gorgeous breasts were right in front of his face, and there was no way he could resist. Raising his head just the tiniest bit, he latched on to a perfect dark brown nipple and sucked as hard as he dared. Cassandra cried out, and then she was moving lower again, and he could feel her heat against his cock, feel how wet she was, and it drove him half mad with want.

"Please." He hardly recognized his own voice. "By all that you hold dear, Cassandra, please, I-"

“Shhh. It's all good.” She hummed softly against his lips, and at the same time she slid slowly down on him, and he felt her heat surrounding him, enveloping him, so wonderful he could have cried.

"Lie still," she whispered again, rolling her hips against him in a slow, languorous circle. "Maker, Cullen, you feel so good."

It was the sweetest torture, not being able to take control and set the pace, but he held on, as much for her sake as for his. Because clearly she was enjoying this, revelling in the slow, deliberate strokes of his flesh against hers. Her face was a picture of lust, her lips half open and her eyes glazed over with desire. She was so beautiful like this, and all he had to do was lie back and watch her, as she moved on top of him, ever so slowly picking up speed and force.

There came a point when he couldn't stop himself from thrusting up any more, when his body simply took over and demanded its due, but by that time he was too far gone to feel any pain or discomfort. His vision narrowed down to the expression on Cassandra's face, wholly transported by ecstasy as her climax hit her. He watched her avidly, and then groaned again as every single nerve in his body became focussed on his own release. He must have screamed, he thought, screamed and thrashed and probably done all manner of embarrassing things. But in the end, the only thing he remembered was the white-hot flame of pleasure tearing through him, so violently he almost blacked out for a moment. Briefly, he wondered whether it was possible to die of lust. _What a way to go._

When he opened his eyes again, Cassandra was warm and heavy on top of him, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. He embraced her gingerly, careful not to squeeze her too tightly, because he still didn't fully trust his muscle control.

"Cassandra? Are you all right?" His throat felt raw. Yes, he must have screamed. _Definitely_.

"I'm fine." She sounded hoarse, too, and she looked wrecked as she glanced up at him from under her tousled hair. "Maker. How's your back?"

He shifted carefully below her. "Better, I think. I… don't dare move yet."

And suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit him and he started to laugh. To giggle, really, there was no use pretending otherwise. Cassandra stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she joined him, her whole body heaving as she gasped with laughter.

"Well, then don't move." As soon as she'd calmed down a little, she wiped her eyes and slid off his body, reaching for a blanket to cover them both, tucking it solicitously around his prone body. "Sleep. I promise I'll let you rest now." Her smiling face looked younger and more carefree than he'd ever seen it. "At least until morning."

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

"It's a pity that you have to leave so soon. That was some impressive work at the rift, you know." Megan smiled at Alec and Dorian while she filled their glasses with wine.

All their bags were packed and they would be leaving in the morning. They had assembled for the last time in front of the fire in the Great Hall for an evening of drink and cheer. Dorian was rather relieved about the choice of venue, if he was honest. Megan's suite was more comfortable, but also a little too intimate for his taste.

"I'd love to stay." Alec looked sad. "But we're needed back at Skyhold."

"It figures." Megan pouted adorably. "Wish we could keep the two of you here for good. You'd fit in _so well_ here."

"You're right." Nathaniel, who was sitting next to her, ruffled her hair and winked at Alec. "I bet they'd make fine Wardens."

Dorian nearly choked on his drink. _Not an option_. Though he had to admit they'd had a good time while they were at the Keep. Much better than he'd expected.

"They sure would." Megan blinked lazily, rubbing her head against Nathaniel's shoulder. "Well? Aren't you tempted, guys? Lots of perks to being a Warden, you know."

Anders leaned back and put an arm loosely around Zevran's shoulders, his grin more than a little suggestive. "Yup. Increased stamina, you know, and not just in battle. Almost makes up for the nightmares."

Alec laughed, but he shook his head. "I don't think so, thanks. Though I have to say I'm impressed with the way you and your Wardens handled the demons, Megan. I think I've never seen anyone fight so fiercely, or with so much skill."

Megan shrugged, but Dorian could see she was pleased with the compliment. "We do what we have to do. _In war, victory_ , and all that."

"You know…" Alec looked a little nervous. "There's been something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Go ahead." Megan was smiling, but her eyes were alert.

"When Cassandra sent for you, after the explosion at the Conclave, they told her you weren't available. Why?" Alec sounded more confident now. "I know she was disappointed when neither Hawke nor the Hero were willing to help."

Megan took a deep sip from her glass before answering. "Well, for one thing, I really wasn't here when Seeker Pentaghast's message arrived. I was on a special mission with Carver. Warden business. Nate sent a reply on my behalf. But if I'd been here, my answer would have been the same." She raised her chin in defiance. "My place is here, Alec, at Vigil's Keep. This is my home, my task, my destiny, if you wish. Just like yours is to lead the Inquisition. And from what I hear, you've done a far better job than I could ever have."

Dorian felt a warm surge of pride at her words. It was about time someone told Alec that he wasn't second best. Alec didn't reply, but he blushed slightly.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Anyway, didn't you have a Grey Warden with you in the Inquisition?"

"We thought we did," Alec amended, his handsome face darkening. "He turned out to be a fraud." Quickly, he summed up Blackwall's whole sad story.

"It's a pity I didn't meet him while I was at Skyhold." Nathaniel sounded gruff. "He wouldn't have fooled me. There's no way to fake the Taint's call."

_Interesting_. Dorian's ears pricked up at the mention of the Taint. He'd been fascinated by the subject ever since Felix had gotten infected, and he'd never quite given up hope that a cure could be found. Back then, he'd been able to delay the infection's progress for quite some time with various potions, but in the end he'd been unable to save Felix. The memory of his friend's suffering still made his chest contract painfully.

Just then one of the dwarven Wardens, a handsome fellow with bright blue eyes and luscious black hair and beard, picked up a harp and began to play a sweet sad ballad. He was a skilled player, and he played with so much feeling and expression that his delivery almost brought tears to Dorian's eyes. Squeezing Alec's thigh under the table, he closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the music. He was more moved than he could put into words. Yes, it was a pity they couldn't stay longer. And yet, it would be good to be home, too.

The next morning, Dorian returned to their room after a quick last-minute trip to the bathhouse to find Alec going through all their luggage, yanking clothes from the bags and stuffing them back in in any old order.

"What are you doing, _amatus_?" Dorian was more than a little irritated to see all his efforts at systematic packing undone.

Alec ignored him, cursing and muttering under his breath. "Blight it, where can it be? I'm sure I had it last night and-" He broke off, looking frustrated.

"Is there a problem?" Nathaniel had appeared in the doorway, giving Alec a concerned look.

Alec glanced up briefly from the saddle bag he'd been digging through. "My scarf. You know, the green velvety one I was wearing when we arrived here? I was going to wear it, since it's my warmest, but it's missing and-"

"Just a moment." With a resigned sigh, Nathaniel stepped back. "Megan!"

He disappeared for a moment, and they heard the door to Megan's suite open and close, and then raised voices behind it. When he returned, the scarf was dangling from his hand. "Here you are. My apologies, Alec."

"It's fine." Alec took it from him with a grateful smile and Nathaniel went off again, a dark frown on his forehead.

Dorian shook his head. Clearly Megan's moral flexibility extended to other areas beside the bedroom. "I don't believe it."

"Yeah, well." Alec smiled ruefully at him. "Nate told me before. Apparently, Megan sometimes finds it hard to resist things she really admires."

"I bet she does." Dorian raised a suggestive eyebrow. "And not just _things_ either."

"True." Alec looked a bit sheepish. "Still, I really like her, you know. Please don't hold it against her."

"I won't." Dorian pulled Alec into a loose embrace. "As long as we're perfectly clear on the fact that she can't have _you_."

* * *

Nate had offered to come with them for the first part of their journey, and Alec was really enjoying his company. He took them all the way up to the North Road, pointing out interesting spots on the wayside. A deep fondness was evident in the way he spoke of the land they were riding through, and the peasants they encountered working on their farms greeted him with heartfelt respect. It was easy to see that he belonged here, that this was his home. Not for the first time Alec wondered what it must have cost him to renounce all this because of his father's treason, to become a Warden with all that entailed. And yet, Nate seemed content with his lot in life, happy even. _But then, he has Megan and Carver. He's a lucky man._

"I need to head back soon, if I want to be home before dark." Nate gestured at the sun, already low in the sky. "There's a decent inn a little further down the road where you can spend the night."

"That would be great." Dorian looked relieved at the prospect of having a roof over their head. He wasn't fond of sleeping in a tent at the best of times, and it was still unpleasantly cold at night.

"I’m sure we can find it on our own if you want to be on your way." Alec reined his horse in and manoeuvred it closer to Nate's so they could embrace. "Bye, Nate. I'm going to miss you."

"Me, too." Nate hugged him as tightly as circumstances allowed. "Take care, Alec. And come back to visit us again some time. It was great having you here."

Nate and Dorian said their farewells, in a considerably more restrained fashion, and then they were on their own while Nate galloped off in the direction of Vigil’s Keep. They rode on side by side, mostly in silence, with only the occasional observation about the state of the road or the growing chill in the air.

They reached the inn shortly before nightfall, but were dismayed to find it crowded to the rooftops.

"I'm sorry, messeres. It's market day over in Mimel, and that's always a busy time." The innkeeper shrugged apologetically. "You're free to sleep in the barn with everyone else, but all my rooms are taken."

Alec exchanged a quick glance with Dorian and sighed. The barn didn't sound appealing, but at least it would be warm and they would be out of the icy rain that had set in a while ago. Dorian gave a slight nod, and that settled matters.

They lingered in the tap room for a while after they'd finished their stew, but eventually they made their way over to the barn. It wasn't actually so very bad, Alec thought. At least it was clean and smelled only faintly of horse, with fresh straw on the floor and room for at least fifty people. Since there weren't quite so many guests after all, they had a little corner all to themselves, where they could spread their bedrolls and arrange their bags around them for a modicum of privacy.

Alec knew how fastidious and private Dorian was, so he wasn't surprised to see that he kept his robes on as he crawled under the blanket. It was probably better anyway, since it was still far from warm, but Alec still felt a slight pang of disappointment. He loved sleeping skin to skin with Dorian, and he'd gotten quite used to it in the past few weeks. With a sigh, he took off his own leathers and his tunic, but, after a brief moment of hesitation, decided to keep his thin linen pants on. Lying down next to Dorian, he muttered a brief goodnight, and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke a few hours later, in the middle of the night. In the darkness surrounding them, he could hear snores and occasional rustles and giggles. Dorian had crept closer to him during the course of the night, wrapping himself tightly around Alec, and he felt nice, warm, and taut and… _Wait a minute!_ Slowly, deliberately, Alec ground his ass against him and yes, there was no mistaking it, even through the layers of their clothing. Dorian was hard, his cock pressing up against Alec in a manner that was positively indecent. Unsurprisingly, that discovery sent his imagination straight into overdrive.

Once again, he rolled his hips slowly against Dorian's crotch and was rewarded with a low moan and a tightening of his lover's arm around him. Alec wasn't quite sure whether Dorian was asleep or awake, but either way, he was already far too interested to stop, so he moved again, more insistently this time.

"Blight it, Alec, sleep," Dorian muttered against his neck.

"I'm not tired," he whispered back, undulating his hips again. "And you feel so good."

"Alec! Stop it. We're not alone." Dorian sounded irritated, but at the same time there was the faintest trace of amusement in his voice, and that hint of a smile was what made Alec go on despite his protests.

"I know." He wiggled a little so he could snake his arms around Dorian's neck and pull him in for a kiss. "That's why it's so exciting." He breathed the words against Dorian's lips, smiling when he felt the answering shudder. "Come on."

"You're mad." Dorian's sigh was close to being a groan, though, and when Alec pushed back against him, he returned the pressure just as fiercely.

"Please." Taking hold of his hand, Alec moved it down to his own rapidly hardening cock. "I need you."

This time, Dorian cursed under his breath in reply, a litany of Tevinter curses that made Alec grin in the dark. If he was resorting to his native language, he had to be _really_ turned on. And then he felt those long fingers slide into his pants, and suddenly things were far too intense for smiles. Dorian wasn't actually doing much, just holding him and occasionally swiping his thumb over the head of his cock with a feather light touch. But his hand was warm and sure, and somehow the darkness made everything twice as intense, every minute caress magnified to mind-shattering proportions. Alec felt as if he would die of pleasure. Forgetting himself, he moaned aloud, but Dorian had anticipated it and stifled the noise with a hard, demanding kiss.

Alec badly wanted to touch him, to return the favour, but when he tried to work a hand between them, Dorian caught it and made a small sound of reproach. Alec understood the message easily enough. Clearly, he was to lie still and let Dorian proceed. And Dorian did so with his usual skill and patience, stroking, caressing, _rubbing_ , until Alec arched up in his grip and came, spilling all over himself and biting down hard on the hand Dorian had placed on his mouth to silence him. And then, just when Alec's heartbeat was starting to slow down, Dorian moved lower and began to lap at his stomach, licking him thoroughly clean.

It took such an effort not to moan and beg and plead through all of this that by the time Dorian finished, Alec was trembling all over. But he wasn't going to let Dorian get away with this. As soon as Dorian was embracing him again, having solicitously tucked him away, Alec sneaked a hand between the folds of his robes, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. And this time, Dorian didn't resist, didn't push him away, not when he stroked him once, up and down, and even less so, when he bent down to take him between his lips.

Somehow Dorian kept silent, the tight clench of his hands in Alec's hair the only thing that gave his growing agitation away. He didn't make a single sound when Alec sucked him in deep, didn't so much as whimper when Alec flicked his tongue against his pulsing flesh, over and over. Only at the end, when he poured himself down Alec's throat in great, heaving spurts, did he allow himself a single, long sigh of contentment, one that would be easy to attribute to a pleasant dream.

But when he pulled Alec up into a tight embrace, he was shaking all over, keeping up a steady stream of praise and thanks and endearments whispered into his ears, until Alec was just about ready to go again, just to have more of this. They didn't, of course. They needed to get some sleep at least, and it would have been unwise to push their luck in any case.

There wasn't an ounce of regret on Alec's mind, as he drifted off to sleep again, though. And he sincerely doubted Dorian felt any different.

* * *

If someone had told Cassandra right after the explosion at the Conclave that there would come a time when she would miss Alec Trevelyan's presence, she'd have laughed into their face. Or possibly snorted. But here she was, waiting impatiently for Alec and Dorian to return from their journey.

The Chantry had been deliberating for days now, but there had been no official announcement of their choice of Divine yet. Every day, when they met at the war table, Cassandra would look into Leliana's face, and every day the spymaster would respond with a minute shake of her head. And every night in her room, before falling asleep, Cassandra would pray that the Inquisitor would be back before the news broke.

For once, the Maker was kind and listened to her prayers. On a bright spring afternoon, Alec and Dorian rode into Skyhold's courtyard, both of them looking exhausted but happy. All the advisors assembled outside to greet them.

Alec embraced Josephine tightly and greeted Cullen with a firm grasp of their forearms, then nodded at Cassandra and Leliana. "It's good to see you all again. Are we back in time?"

"Just about, Inquisitor." Leliana's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's good to have you back." Josephine was beaming at Alec. "There's so much we need to discuss."

Later, after a hearty meal and a lengthy conversation in front of the fireplace, Alec leaned back in his heavy armchair with a heartfelt sigh. "Thank you all for taking care of things in my absence. It seems we are going to have our hands full in the near future."

Cassandra nodded. Quite apart from the election, several new challenges were waiting for them already. There had been reports of mysterious events in the Frostback Basin and strange earthquakes on the Storm Coast. And there was still no shortage of rifts and bandits and stray Templars and mages all over Thedas.

Next to her, Cullen smiled at Alec, reaching for her hand at the same time. "We will manage. At least one thing is certain, Inquisitor. We won't get bored any time soon."


	41. Chapter 41

"Boss! Come over and join us. We've got another victory to celebrate." Bull's booming voice rang out all the way across Skyhold's vast courtyard.

The Chargers had just returned from a trip to Southern Orlais where they'd helped out a minor nobleman whose estates had been troubled by bandits. Their efforts had netted the Inquisition a tidy sum of money, as well as the chevalier's enduring gratitude.

"Come on, Inquisitor." Next to Bull on the bench outside the tavern, Harding was beaming with happiness, clearly overjoyed to have her lover back. "It will do you good. Take your mind off things."

Alec smiled at them, but shook his head. He had a letter from Dorian waiting for him up in his suite, and he'd spent most of the afternoon looking forward to the moment when he could withdraw to his quarters and read it. Besides, he knew he wasn't up to watching Bull and Harding all night. It wasn't that he begrudged them their happiness, but seeing them kiss and cuddle would only make the return to his own cold bed that much harder to bear.

He headed for the Great Hall, silently cursing Dorian's stubborn insistence that he had to return to Tevinter to _make a difference_.

"I can't put it off any longer, _amatus_. Corypheus has been gone for close on two years, and from what Maevaris wrote, things back home are getting steadily worse _."_ Dorian's clear grey eyes had been full of earnest determination. "Please, Alec. I have to try, at least."

And yes, Alec had understood. How could he not? But at the same time, it was so damn hard to be without Dorian. He missed him, day and night, missed having him at his side in battle, missed the familiar warmth of his body in bed, the understanding glances they'd exchange during the day. They'd been apart for more than three months now, and so far, Dorian seemed to have no intention of returning.

_Ah, well_. Sighing deeply, Alec let the heavy door to his quarters fall shut behind him and headed for his bed, throwing off his clothes on the way there. At least he had Dorian's letters. And Maker, what amazing letters they were! When the first of them had arrived, he'd made the mistake of opening it down in the hall, in full view of everyone, and had only narrowly avoided embarrassing himself. Ever since then, he'd made a point of being undisturbed when he read his beloved's missives. Naked and undisturbed, preferably.

Stretching out on the bed, he reached for the letter, quickly checking the seal before breaking it with an impatient huff. Much to his relief, it didn't appear to have been tampered with. Of course Dorian knew better than to put any information of a politically sensitive nature into his letters to Alec. If he felt that the Inquisition should know about a particular development in the magisterium, he would contact one of Leliana's people, and the message would be properly encrypted and sent by far subtler means than a common courier. No, these letters were devoted to their private correspondence only. Still, Alec didn't particularly fancy the thought that one of the many agents in the employ of the various spy networks should get to read them. _Though I bet it would make_ _for a nice change from all the political intrigues._

The letter started off innocuously enough, with a thoroughly entertaining account of a boring dinner party in Minrathous that Dorian had been forced to attend. Alec's lips twitched in amusement as he read the scathing descriptions of the various guests. Whatever else Dorian was up to, he was clearly enjoying the opportunity to exercise his gift for sarcasm.

_I spent quite a while chatting to one of the senior magisters' wives. I swear the woman is getting more beautiful with each passing month, though she must be at least fifty. I wonder what her secret is. Maybe she-_

Dorian seemed to have been interrupted at this point, and as he'd resumed writing, the letter's tone had changed completely. Alec felt his breathing speed up as he continued reading, soaking up each word with an almost savage thirst for more.

_Alec. Maker, I miss you so much. It's the middle of the night, and I've just woken from a dream of you, aching with desire for your company. Ah_ , _the things I want to do to you right now… I can't think of anything but the feel of your skin under my touch, like the softest velvet, the taste of your lips, the sound of your voice as you cry out my name. And I would make you cry out, if only I could get my hands on you. I would make you sigh and moan and beg for more._

Oh yes, he would. Alec didn't doubt it for a moment. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to return his attention to the letter.

_Do you miss me, too? Do you dream of my hands on your skin, my body in your arms? You do, don't you? Do the dreams drive you crazy, like me? Do you wish I was there with you, to touch you, caress you, kiss you? Tell me,_ amatus _, are you hard for me already?_

Involuntarily, Alec whined, because of course he was, turned on beyond belief by Dorian's words on the page. He could _hear_ them in his lover's voice, soft and low and seductive, faintly tinged with amusement. Moaning, Alec bit down on his lip, his right hand dropping to his cock almost of its own accord.

_Are you touching yourself? Of course you are. Always so impatient._

"Oh shut up, you smug bastard," Alec muttered under his breath. "As if I didn't know exactly what _you_ were doing while you composed this pretty little message!"

Of course the image only made things worse: Dorian sitting at his desk at night, stroking himself slowly with one hand while he was writing, his eyes half closed and his chest heaving with laboured breaths. _Shit_! Alec thrust hard into his own hand, and it felt so good. Not anywhere near as good as Dorian's hand would have, but still…

_Take your time,_ amatus _, don't rush it. I want you to last until I've told you every dirty thought I've had all day long, until I've shared all the fantasies that keep me awake at night. I want you to savour every moment, imagining that I'm there with you, whispering the words in your ear while I touch you. I want you to close your eyes and feel me close to you, with you, inside you._

It was almost more than Alec could bear, but he forced himself to slow down, even though his left hand was shaking so badly by now that it was a challenge to continue reading. Dorian seemed to have faced much the same problem, judging from the increasing sloppiness of his usually immaculate handwriting.

_Sweet Maker, Alec, I want you so badly. When I think of you, I can_ taste _you on my lips, and I can almost hear those delicious little noises you make when I take you in my mouth-_

Alec's fingers clenched so hard that he crumpled the paper. By now, his body was buzzing all over with arousal, every nerve stimulated to the point of pain. How was it even possible that mere words could do this to him? Quickly, he smoothed out the page, even though he knew he couldn't last much longer.

_You're almost there, aren't you?_ Dorian's hand had clearly been shaking as he wrote the words.

"Yes." Alec's lips were dry as he whispered the word, his right hand tightening around his cock. Just a little more, just a teensy bit more pressure.

_Come for me,_ amatus _. Scream for me, now._

And Alec did. He came so hard he had just enough time to yank the precious letter out of the way before he spilled all over himself, his body arching off the sheets and his heels digging deep into the mattress. And he screamed, screamed Dorian's name, until he was hoarse, screamed it into the emptiness surrounding him. The world went white for a moment, everything dissolving into sheer, blinding pleasure. For a fleeting moment, the pain of their separation was gone, replaced by simple, uncomplicated bliss. And then it returned with a vengeance, so raw and unmitigated that Alec sobbed into his pillow. _Damn it, Dorian._

He really didn't know how much longer he could stand this.

* * *

Cullen arrived late for the War Table meeting. The fact that he had good reasons for doing so – the new recruits from Ferelden had been in sore need of a good pep talk – did little to mitigate his bad mood. Lately, he'd begun to wonder whether those meetings weren't a waste of time, precious time that could be better spent elsewhere. But that was a moot point. The Inquisitor called and he followed, as it should be.

Alec greeted him with a brief nod. "Cullen. I take it you've already been informed?"

"Apparently not." His mood darkened further. "Since I've no idea what you're talking about."

Next to him, Cassandra made a small, soothing noise, and he felt her hand brush against his elbow in the faintest hint of a caress. Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to calm down.

Fortunately, Alec was not the type to be offended by his attitude. The corners of his eyes crinkled with faint amusement as he took a step back and straightened to his full height. "Well, then let me bring you up to speed. Vivienne, no, Divine Victoria, I should say, has called an Exalted Council to discuss the future of the Inquisition. There will be envoys from both Ferelden and Orlais as well as Chantry delegates, and the Most Holy herself will preside over the negotiations." His voice was practically dripping with irony.

"Oh, that is just great." Cullen didn't bother to hide his disgust. "And where, pray, are those negotiations to be held?"

Alec grinned. "At a place that doubtlessly holds a special place in your memory, Commander. At the Imperial Palace in Halamshiral."

Leliana snickered almost inaudibly, exchanging a meaningful look with Josephine. Cullen could have smacked them both if he'd been given to such undignified behaviour. He restricted himself to glaring at them instead.

"I have already begun the preparations, of course." Josephine looked positively delighted at the prospect of diplomatic intrigues and courtly gossip.

Cullen shook himself. "Do I _have_ _to_ come with you?"

To his dismay, Alec nodded. "I want all of you there. We need to show them the Inquisition is still a force to be reckoned with."

"Oh, but they know _that_." Leliana smiled without a trace of humour. "That is precisely why they want to get rid of us."

"One more reason not to take any chances." Alec's expression turned grim. "I want you there to remind them who fought against Corypheus. It was our troops who stood in the front lines, and you were the one who led them, Cullen. Maybe it's time they all remembered that fact."

Cassandra nodded at Alec's words, but Josephine flinched a little. _She's probably worried us unwashed barbarians will mess it all up._ Leliana's face remained unreadable.

For once, Alec seemed determined to ignore Josephine's discomfort. "It's settled, then. We're all going. And I want the whole nine yards, Josie. Parade uniforms, honour guards, fanfares."

"Yes, Inquisitor. You will have everything that befits your station." Josephine's expression brightened considerably at the prospect of so much pomp and circumstance. Clearly, she agreed with Alec on this point at least. "Leave it all to me."

"Thank you, Josie." Alec's easy smile was back in place. "We will leave as soon as we can. I have a feeling that we will need time to familiarize ourselves with the situation before the official part begins."

* * *

"Any news from your pretty Inquisitor, Dorian?" Maevaris favoured him with her most ravishing smile.

She hadn't forgotten how the Inquisition's agents had helped her cause by taking out a Venatori supporter who had threatened her. And ever since she'd set eyes on the portrait that Dorian had brought with him from Skyhold, she'd developed a huge soft spot for Alec himself.

"He writes to me regularly." Dorian raised his wine goblet in a mute salute. "Of course letters are a poor substitute for his company but-"

"Oh come on, sweetheart. I'm sure you know perfectly well how to take care of yourself. Or do I have to explain?" Maevaris purred like a cat, but when he didn't laugh, her eyes narrowed. "What? Don't look at me like that. Wasn't that what you were implying?"

_No. Actually, I just really miss Alec. His smile. His voice. All of him._ Dorian sighed, momentarily tempted to admit his real feelings, but then decided against it. The words sounded unbearably soppy even to himself, and besides, showing so much vulnerability didn't appeal to him. He forced himself to chuckle. "You're incorrigible, Mae."

"Ah, you know what they say." Maevaris blew him a kiss across the opulently set dinner table. "When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm bad…"

"Yes, yes, I know." Funnily enough, her innuendo _had_ cheered him up a little. Suddenly, he was glad he'd travelled to Quarinus to meet up with her, even if he'd come for other reasons beside their friendship.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, she changed the subject. "Have you been to see your parents already?"

He shrugged. "I have, yes. My father wasn't there, and my mother was drunk. Nothing out of the ordinary, just home, sweet home." He reached for his goblet again, but the wine seemed to have lost its taste. He put it down with a little shudder of revulsion.

Maevaris' eyes missed nothing, of course. "How are the Lucerni doing?"

Dorian snorted. While he truly appreciated the youthful idealism of their supporters, he was under no illusion as to their political aptitude. "In trouble, as usual. I swear, sometimes I wonder why we bother."

"I love trouble." Maevaris shrugged gracefully, making her silver blonde curls ripple. "And anyway-"

They were interrupted by a liveried messenger carrying a scroll of paper with the seal of the Magisterium. "Lord Pavus?"

Dorian extended his hand, frowning as he did so. "Now, I wonder…" Quickly, he scanned the message, keeping a carefully neutral expression.

Maevaris waited until the messenger had disappeared before raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Apparently the Magisterium has decided - I quote - 'to reward me for my interest in the South'." Dorian drew a deep breath. "There's going to be an Exalted Council, at Empress Celene's palace in Halamshiral, to decide the future of the Inquisition. Alec is going to be there, of course."  He didn't quite succeed in hiding the sudden rush of happiness he felt. "And I have just been appointed the official ambassador of the Imperium."


	42. Chapter 42

The clean, well-appointed wayside inn would be their last stop before reaching Halamshiral. As usual, Josephine had made sure that the Inquisitor and his entourage didn't lack for comfort. The very best rooms available had been booked for Alec and his advisors, and dinner had been delicious as well as plentiful.

Left to her own devices, Cassandra would have been perfectly content to sleep in a tent, but she knew appearances mattered. Besides, if nothing else, it gave her a chance to spend one last night alone with Cullen before they entered that viper's nests of gossip and intrigues, the Imperial Palace.

When they retired to their room that night, after making sure that all preparations were in place for the coming morning, she wasn't in a particularly good mood. Tomorrow, they would ride into Halamshiral on prancing chargers, smiling and waving graciously at the assembled courtiers and clerics. Cassandra wasn't particularly fond of such occasions.

But her own feelings paled to insignificance in comparison to Cullen's. In a corner of the spacious room their dress uniforms were waiting, neatly brushed, the golden epaulettes gleaming softly in the candlelight.

He was regarding them with barely concealed disgust. "Maker, why can't we at least wear armour? I feel like a circus horse in that thing." He practically spat out the words.

Cassandra bit back a smile. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. At least I don't have to wear a dress this time." She shuddered at the memory of the elegant ball gown she'd been forced to squeeze herself into the last time they'd been here.

"I liked you in that dress." Cullen's face wore an all-too-familiar, stubborn expression, but there was the faintest undertone of playfulness in his voice, and she decided to respond to that, rather than his whining.

"Well, _I_ liked you in the uniform. And I was not the only one." She remembered only too well how the ladies at court had swooned over him.

And it would probably be worse this time, because Maker knew, he looked even more delectable now than he had two years ago. True, his struggle against the lyrium addiction had left him with permanent lines etched deep into his forehead. But the shadows under his eyes had all but disappeared, and his skin had once again taken on that pale golden sheen that she remembered from when she'd first met him, back in Kirkwall.

Stepping closer to him, she trailed her hand along the line of his shoulders. "The finery suits you, you know. It makes you look like a romantic hero. Of course..." She tugged a little on the lacings of his shirt, and he took the hint, pulling it over his head in one smooth move. "I like you without the uniform, too."

"Do you, now?" His voice had dropped at least an octave, but he kept perfectly still while she ran her hands all over his wide chest. Slowly, she continued further down, until her fingers tangled in the fine trail of blond hair on his lower belly. Cullen didn't move or even gasp, but a faint ripple of muscles all over his torso proved that he was by no means unaffected.

For a moment, Cassandra was tempted to go further, but it was already pitch dark outside, and tomorrow was going to be a long day.

With a regretful sigh, she pulled back. "We ought to get some rest. After all, we have to look our best, when we arrive at the Palace."

"Don't remind me." Cullen frowned at the thought. "I can already feel my face aching from all the false smiles. Honestly, I'm just not made for political small talk."

"Me neither. We will just have to do our best, I guess." Sighing, Cassandra turned away and reached for the hem of her shirt to take it off.

But he forestalled her with a quick move. "Let me."

Before she knew it, the garment came off, followed by her breastband, and then he was embracing her from behind, cupping both her breasts in his hands. And Maker, she loved the feel of those hands, firm and warm and calloused, touching her with such reverence, even after all this time.

He moaned softly, pulling her close to his body in an unspoken request for more. She could feel his arousal, feel all of him, hot and hard against the small of her back, and it made her knees go weak.

"Don't you think we should-" She made a last, half-hearted attempt to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't have it.

"Please, Cassandra." His lips were warm and soft on her neck. "We only have one more night together before the Exalted Council starts. And who knows how long this farce is going to take?"

_True_. It pained her to think of all the nights ahead, when they would be forced to sleep in separate quarters. At Skyhold, no one cared about their sleeping arrangements, but at the palace, they would be in a vulnerable position, and they couldn't afford to flaunt the common rules of decency. They might be able to sneak off for a secret afternoon tryst, but that was about all they could hope for.

So she didn't protest when he gathered her up in his arms and carried her over to her bed. And when he lowered her onto the sheets and propped himself up on top of her, she happily surrendered to his caresses. For a while, no words were necessary as their bodies found their own language. Cullen knew exactly what she liked by now, and he found every spot guaranteed to make her gasp with unerring certainty.

There was no teasing, no drawing out the pleasure. He took her to her peak with quiet efficiency, no doubt to make sure she'd still get enough sleep, and Cassandra was grateful for it. That was what she needed now, and more refined games would have to wait for more suitable occasions. When her climax hit her, it was fast and intense, making her dig her nails sharply into his broad back as she cried out in his arms. He followed right on her heels, groaning deep in his throat, his hips snapping hard against her.

He held her tight afterwards, and she snuggled into his embrace with a contented sigh. Right now, she would have willingly agreed to spend the rest of her life like his, gazing up at him, admiring his aristocratic profile, enjoying the strength in his arms. For all her love of cheesy romance novels with dashing heroes, Cassandra had never considered good looks all that important in a man. Yet, she had to admit that some small part of her was flattered that a man like Cullen, so handsome, so attractive in a strong, silent way, had chosen to be with her, Cassandra Pentaghast.

Yes, she was flattered, and proud - and sometimes a tiny bit worried, if she was completely honest. He could have so many others… would he really be content to stay at her side? The thought cast a momentary shadow over her state of bliss. What if he got tempted by the admiring glances of one of the countless coquettish ladies-in-waiting at court? What if he succumbed to the temptation? She wasn't even sure she could blame him if he did. With all those sweet young things practically throwing themselves at him, how could any man be expected to resist?

She hadn't ever mentioned any of this to Cullen, so in all probability, he was completely unaware of the turmoil in her head. Yet he, too, was quiet and pensive, as if he was ruminating over some big decision.

"What's on your mind, love?" Casssandra suppressed a yawn as she spoke. Maker, it was really late.

"Nothing. I just... Maybe we-" He broke off with a sigh and reached for the candle at their bedside. "Not now. Let's get some sleep."

Yawning again, Cassandra breathed a kiss against his shoulder. Yes. It probably wasn't a good time to discuss her fears and worries. She was far too tired, and other things were more important right now.  

* * *

Dorian had gone looking for Alec the moment he'd been assigned his quarters at the palace. He couldn't wait to see the look of happy surprise on his beloved's face when he showed up. Yet, when he arrived at the Inquisitor's suite, a bored elven servant informed him that Ser Trevelyan was attending an audience with Her Perfection, Divine Victoria herself, and that he wasn't expected back before nightfall.

With a deep sigh of frustration, Dorian set out to find something else to do to pass the time. _Not before nightfall! What in Thedas does Vivienne have to discuss with him that would take so long?_ He shook his head in disbelief. Still, there was nothing to do but to wait. A few discreet inquiries led him to a tavern on the palace grounds where the Inquisition's troops had made themselves comfortable.

Even before he entered, he heard the loud roar of Bull's laughter, and it made him smile. He hadn't really admitted it to himself, but he had missed them all. Bull, the Chargers, Harding, even Sera and Cole. Much as he appreciated the familiar comforts of home, no one in Tevinter had ever made him feel as welcome as his friends in the Inquisition.  

"Dorian! Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" The moment he passed the threshold, he found himself enveloped in a bear hug. "I didn't realize you'd be here. Admit it, life was too boring without us."

"Stop it, you big brute!" Dorian winced as he freed himself from Bull's massive arms. Several of his ribs felt decidedly bruised. Still, it was impossible to resist Bull's happy grin. "Yes, yes, I am glad to see you again. And you, Aclassi. How are you doing?"

"No complaints, thank you, _Altus_ Pavus." Krem sounded stiff. "The Inquisition has been good to all of us."

"Now, now." Dorian frowned. "Just because I've been back to the old country, you don't have to go all formal on me again. I'm still me. Still not an evil blood mage. Still not trying to enslave anybody."

"Right." Krem nodded, but he still looked a tad wary.

Dorian decided to let the matter rest. Much as he hated to admit it, it made plenty of sense for one of the poor _soporati_ like Krem to distrust the son of a wealthy magister. He suppressed a sigh. Sometimes the sheer scale of all that was wrong with the Imperium threatened to make him lose courage.

"Ah, don't mind him." Bull's hearty slap on his shoulder made Dorian's knees buckle. "The boss is going to be _so_ happy to see you again." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Poor guy has been a wreck without you, all gloomy and mopey and boring. Wouldn't even drink with us, though I bet that would have helped him to forget."

"Yes, well." Dorian shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He hated the thought that he had been the reason for Alec's unhappiness. "He's probably learned from experience. The last time you got him so drunk he had trouble remembering his own name."

"Ha! True." Bull's loud bellow of a laugh drew annoyed glances from the few Orlesians who had ventured into the tavern. "Anyway. Does Alec even know you're here?"

"I'm not sure. I'd hoped to surprise him." Dorian thoughtfully stroked his moustache. "Of course, Leliana may have informed him."

"Nah, I don't think so." Bull grinned. "That woman loves keeping her secrets close to her chest. Well, go on then. Why aren't you with him already?"

"He's with the Divine." Dorian did his best not to sound too dejected.

Bull's loud snort made it abundantly clear what he thought of the Most Holy. "Then have a drink with us. Come on, boys. Make room for our favourite Vint. No offense, Krem. I don't really think of you as a Vint anymore."

"None taken, Chief." Krem had obviously decided to loosen up a bit after all. "I'll take it as a compliment."

Much later, when Dorian left the tavern, his head felt mildly woozy, but his heart was a lot lighter and he no longer felt quite so out of place. On impulse, he decided to seek out the other ambassadors, while he felt on top of his game. According to his briefings, Orlais was represented by one Duke Cyril de Montfort, while Ferelden had sent Arl Teagan of Redcliffe. _Yes_. Best to introduce himself straight away, watch their reaction to the presence of a dread Tevinter magister. _This should be fun._

* * *

It was a weird experience to be at Halamshiral again. Most of the day had been like one of those bizarre dreams where everything was familiar and strange at the same time. The palace and the gardens looked exactly as Alec remembered them, but without Empress Celene, who had chosen to be absent, there was an almost tangible sense of emptiness, a vacuum of power. And even though almost all his friends and companions were here with Alec, just like two years ago, none of them was quite the same as they used to be.

Alec had talked to Black-, no _Rainier_ , for a while, and had been struck by the sincerity of the man's attempts to make amends. No matter what he had done, he was clearly determined to make the most of his second chance, and that alone demanded respect. Shortly afterwards, he had run into Varric and his seneschal, Bran. Alec shook his head. He still couldn't believe it: _Varric Tethras,_ rogue and storyteller, was now Viscount of Kirkwall! It was too much to take in.

At the appointed hour, he'd gone to meet Vivienne. Divine Victoria now, the first mage ever to rule over the Chantry. And while Alec was ready to concede that she was probably the only woman alive who could pull off the hat and the robes without looking ridiculous, he was still less than convinced that she had been a good choice. He'd carefully kept his feelings hidden during their meeting, though, or at least he hoped so. For some reason, Vivienne had always had a soft spot for him, and if it would help them assure her goodwill during the coming negotiations, he was more than willing to butter her up a little.

So far, his strategy seemed to be working. Vivienne had assured him twice of her support for the Inquisition, and she'd been full of advice on how to deal with the Orlesian and Fereldan delegates, too. He could still hear her voice in his head, firm and reassuring. _Ah, darling, they are all noise and no teeth. We will handle them together._ Well, Alec didn't doubt _she_ could handle them. He wasn't quite so sure about himself.

Whatever else could be said about Vivienne, one thing was certain: She was never boring. Alec hadn't expected to spend the afternoon with massages and beauty treatments at the Imperial Gardens Spa, and it couldn't be denied that the Most Holy looked pretty amazing for her age in a swimsuit. Alec hadn't actually learned much about Vivienne's plans and concerns, beyond some platitudes about the challenges of ruling the Chantry. But at least he was thoroughly relaxed and fragrant by the time she breathed a goodbye kiss on his smoothly shaved cheek.

Duke Cyril, the Orlesian ambassador, waylaid him as he attempted to return to his suite, and Alec had to resign himself to yet another round of polite conversation. At least the man was affable enough on the surface. As for what lay beneath his jovial mask, only time would tell.

As soon as he could, Alec made his excuses. "If you don't mind, Your Grace, I should probably pay my respects to Arl Teagan as well. We wouldn't want to offend Fereldan sensibilities." He winked conspiratorially, and added a polite little bow for good measure.

"Of course, my dear Inquisitor." Duke Cyril smiled glibly. "You will find him over at the gazebo, talking to the Tevinter ambassador, I believe."

"Thank you." Alec took his leave with another respectful nod, but his mind was elsewhere. _There is a Tevinter ambassador?_ _But_ _who-_

Some part of Alec knew, even before he turned the corner and saw him standing there, talking to the Arl and Josephine. And yet, when he set eyes on Dorian, so tall and slim and graceful, the epitome of elegance in his well-cut robes, Alec's brain simply blanked out, without warning. Dimly he was aware that he was mumbling inane excuses, vaguely he noticed the scandalized look on Arl Teagan's face and the amused twist of Josie's mouth.

Before either of them had time to process what was happening, Alec had already pulled Dorian aside and dragged him off into a quiet corner surrounded by lush, vine-covered trellises. And Dorian didn't resist, didn't protest, just melted into his arms as if he couldn't wait either. Alec pulled him close, held him tight, cradling his face in his hands without caring who saw them.

And finally, _finally_ they were kissing, kissing like they'd never done before, like the world was going to end right there and then, and all that remained was their love, their desire, their _hunger_ for each other's lips. Dorian was moaning into his mouth and he tasted like heaven, and Alec simply couldn't get enough, couldn't stop, couldn't-

" _Amatus_." Dorian's brief gasp pulled him momentarily out of his trance. "Oh sweet Maker, I-"

Alec nodded, pressing his forehead to Dorian's and closing his eyes. _Yes. Me, too._ There were no words for what he was feeling.


	43. Chapter 43

Dorian couldn't have said how much time had passed when he came to his senses again. Now that he was back in Alec's arms, it was impossible to think clearly, impossible to utter anything coherent, beyond _Alec, amatus, Maker, I've missed you, so much, so terribly, my love, my one and only, Alec…_ words gasped between kisses, because neither of them could stop.

When they finally paused for breath, gazing into each other's eyes, he felt a surge of sheer happiness. "Alec. I'm back."

"You're back," Alec confirmed, his eyes suspiciously moist. "Why didn't you write and tell me? I would have-"

"I wanted to surprise you." Dorian felt a laugh bubble up in his throat.

"Well, you certainly did." Alec laughed, too, a little breathlessly. "Maker, what is Arl Teagan going to think? I'll have to go back and apologize."

"Now?" Involuntarily, Dorian made a face.

He felt far too embarrassed to look the Arl in the eye. Not to mention the fact that he was in no state to meet _anyone_ right now. His lips felt bruised, his hair was tousled, and besides… "Surely, Josephine will explain." Surreptitiously, he adjusted his robes.

Alec's lips twitched. "She probably will. You're right. Now, let me think…" He took hold of the trellis behind him and gave it a little experimental shake. "Yeah. This should do."

"You're not serious, are you?" Dorian stared at him.

"Why not?" Alec shrugged. "It's hardly the first time we’re going on a little climbing spree here. Remember the night of the ball? It's getting dark already, and no one will expect to see us up there. If you really want to avoid Teagan-"

"I do, but…" Dorian felt mildly queasy. He didn't really share Alec's enthusiasm for heights and hazardous climbs.

"Come on." Alec smiled knowingly. "The sooner we are in my quarters; the sooner we can get naked."

"Alec!" Dorian did his best to banish the thought, but it was too late. The image was already there, in his mind: Alec’s smooth bare skin shimmering in the candlelight; muscles contracting as Dorian ran his hand over his body. "Damn it, you're not helping here."

"Oh, quit it!" Alec was already halfway up the trellis, moving as nimbly as a squirrel. "Look. It's easy."

With a sigh, Dorian hoisted himself up behind him. _Damn that crazy Marcher brat!_

The climb _was_ no big deal, really. It took them to a deserted balcony, which was fine with Dorian. Unfortunately, all the doors and windows on this side of the palace turned out to be locked from inside, so they had to make their way along a narrow ledge. Alec was completely unfazed by it, but Dorian made the mistake of looking down when they were halfway around the corner, and his stomach lurched violently. Fortunately, Alec was there immediately, his hand warm and firm and reassuring. Moments later, they were running along a dimly lit corridor, heading for the Inquisitor’s private quarters.

"Almost there." Alec's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and he was panting a little. He looked incredibly tempting, hot and flushed and utterly delectable.

"Wait!" There were voices in the corridor ahead, behind a pair of large double doors, and Dorian just about managed to drag Alec behind one of the heavy wall hangings.

They clung tight to each other while they waited for the small group of nobles to pass, and Dorian's earlier arousal, considerably dampened by their adventures, flared up again with a vengeance. Alec smelled like heaven, and his skin was like the richest, silkiest velvet… By the time they left their hideout, Dorian was so worked up that he couldn't think straight.

"Voilà. Here we are." With a wide grin, Alec opened a little side door, winking cheekily at the guard in Inquisition uniform behind it. "Forget you've seen us, will you?" He tossed the girl a coin. "If anyone asks, the Inquisitor has retired early with a headache."

The girl nodded, not bothering to hide her smirk. "Will do, your Worship."

Moments later they were in Alec's suite, just the two of them, and Alec had barred the door and drawn the curtain shut.

"Right. I'm all yours." He smiled, a wide, happy smile, as bright as the midday sun, as he threw himself in Dorian's arms.

Dorian's heart nearly stopped. " _Amatus_."

Once again, his capacity to think rapidly disappeared as he took hold of Alec's head, burying his fingers deep in his honey-blond hair. Once again, they were kissing, but this time, their hands were busy, too, untying laces and tugging at fabric until they found bare skin. Once again, both of them were moaning helplessly, begging without words for _more_. It was the sweetest torment, and Dorian delivered himself completely to Alec's caresses, no holds barred. He couldn't have resisted if his life had depended on it.

* * *

Alec was rapidly losing control. Having Dorian here, in his arms, in his own quarters, just the two of them, after all those lonely, desperate weeks… It was too good to be true. Their clothes couldn't come off fast enough, because he was _craving_ the warmth of Dorian's perfect skin, hungering for his touch like a man starved for years.

Even the small distance to his bedroom seemed too far to attempt in his present state. He simply couldn't wait, and anyway, the carpet was soft enough, wasn't it? Dragging Dorian down to the floor with him, he ran his hands all over his beloved's body, frantically grinding against him.

"Shhh, Alec." Dorian seemed torn between laughter and a hunger that matched his own. "I'm here. It's all good. Now tell me, what do you want?"

Alec whined at that question, because how was he supposed to decide? "I don't know." He was panting so hard that it was a struggle to form the words. "I… I want _everything_."

And it was true. With every fibre of his being he wanted Dorian inside him, and at the same time he simply _needed_ to get his mouth on him. Some part of him wanted to take Dorian, to feel him hot and tight around his cock, or maybe it would be enough to have those perfect lips wrapped around him? No, he couldn't possibly make a choice. He wanted it all, and he wanted it right now.

"Shhh," Dorian repeated. "I promise you shall have everything you want, _amatus_ , but we need to start _somewhere_. Let me."

And before Alec could regain his bearings, Dorian was already down between his legs. And Maker, his lips were so soft, and he was making such a happy little noise when he tasted Alec again, and his eyes were closed in bliss. For the life of him, Alec couldn't bear to just watch. Wiggling around, he managed to place his head on Dorian's thigh, so he could return the favour, sucking him all in as fast as he dared.

Dorian immediately let go of him, crying out sharply. "Damn it, Alec, I can't focus if you-"

"I don't care." Alec laughed giddily, having released him in turn. "I won't last, no matter what you do. Just having you here with me again…" He swallowed hard.

"Oh, Alec." Dorian's voice sounded strangled. "I love you so much."

And then his mouth was back, hot and sweet and perfect, and Alec hastened to follow his example. What he'd said was true, of course. They were both too far gone for any kind of subtlety, and both of them came with embarrassing swiftness, so hard and fast that simple relief almost drowned out the pleasure. And yet, neither of them had it in him to care.

They remained lying on the carpet afterwards, embracing tightly, until a sharp rap on the door made them both jump.

"Inquisitor?" Cullen's deep voice, sounding concerned. "Everything all right?"

Dorian was already reaching for his clothes, but Alec stopped him with a hand on his wrist. "Door's locked," he mouthed inaudibly, then raised his voice. "Everything's fine, Cullen. I'm just having an early night."

"Oh. Right." Cullen cleared his throat. "The guards at the front door didn't see you arrive, so I thought…"

Dorian was shaking with suppressed laughter, but he managed to keep quiet.

"It's all good. I do appreciate your concern." Alec's own lips were twitching, but he managed to stay serious. "Good night, Cullen."

As soon as Cullen's steps had moved away, he allowed himself a wide grin. "Maker. I'm so glad I remembered to lock the door. But hey…" He traced Dorian's jaw in a gesture of infinite tenderness. "Let's take this to the bedroom, shall we?"

They made themselves comfortable on the lavishly adorned four-poster, sharing a goblet of wine and some of the delicious snacks they found on a side table.

"Ah, that's nice." Dorian yawned and stretched voluptuously. "One thing to be said for Orlesians. They are reasonably civilized." He pulled Alec closer, burying his face in his hair and sniffing appreciatively. "Mmhmm, you smell good. And you feel amazing. Where have you been?"

"The Imperial Garden Spa." Alec grinned. "It was Vivienne's idea. _You work so hard, my dear, I wanted to treat you._ " He did his best to imitate Madame de Fer's characteristic lazy drawl.

"Well, I'm certainly not complaining." Dorian sighed contentedly. "So… Apart from her heartfelt concern about your well-being, how is Vivienne doing?"

Alec snorted. "Yeah, right… She's thriving, Dorian. No matter how much she complains about the challenges of her office, she loves being in power. And if I were to venture a guess… I'm pretty sure she is here to stay."

"What makes you think that?" Dorian frowned, inclining his head in thought. "I would have thought she'd still be facing considerable opposition."

"It doesn't seem to worry _her_." Alec shivered. "She said something to the effect that it was easy to silence her detractors."

Dorian made a face. "Ugh. I see what you mean. Well, much as I appreciate the fact that this Exalted Council allowed me to return to your side…" He took a deep sip of wine. "I'm sorry that you have to waste your time dealing with politics and intrigues. It's bad enough that I am plagued with this kind of thing."

Alec shrugged. "It seems to be a fact of life. Great power, great responsibility, and all that. And I guess we can't all be as nonchalant about it as Varric is."

"So it's really true? They've made him Viscount of Kirkwall?" Dorian shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"I know." Alec felt a laugh rising irresistibly in his chest, and it was just as much due to happiness as to amusement. It was so good to be with Dorian again, to discuss the day's business with someone who understood, who would help him carry the load. "He even gave me an estate and a title, imagine that." He reached for the scroll on his side table. "I'm happy to inform you that you're sharing a bed with the illustrious Comte de Sombrerue."

"The Count of Darktown?" Dorian chuckled. "Yes, that sounds like Varric's sense of humour. Still, at least Kirkwall is a lot closer to Minrathous, so if you should decide to settle there-"

"So you're going back to Tevinter once this is over?" Alec bit his lip. The sudden pain cut him to the quick. "I had hoped…" He let his voice trail off, realizing he'd been stupid.

" _Amatus_." Dorian's voice was full of warmth. "Not right away. I'm far too glad to be with you again. But eventually… Anyway, let's not talk about this now." He placed a soft kiss on Alec's cheek, then began to nuzzle his jaw, making him shiver. "We have far better things to do."

"True." Alec was only too happy to let himself be distracted. _Tomorrow,_ was his last clear thought, before desire took over his brain again. _I'll think about it tomorrow._

* * *

"Well, Commander? Enjoying your stay so far?" Leliana's tone was heavily laced with irony.

Cullen glared at her. "You know I hate it."

"Of course you do." Leliana gestured for him to take a seat opposite her own. "Knives in the shadows, poisoned goblets… it's not really your kind of place, is it?"

"I can't imagine how anyone would enjoy it." He knew he sounded stiff, but it had been a trying day.

"The Game is not for everyone." She shrugged. "There are a few bright sides, though. Josephine got us all tickets for the opera for Saturday night, I believe." Her blithe expression was far too innocent to be genuine.

"Oh, great." Feeling panic rise inside him at the thought of an evening spent listening to what passed for musical entertainment in Orlais, Cullen groaned in exasperation. "Please, Leliana, by all that you hold dear, you've got to get me out of this. I don't want to offend Josephine, but I don't think I can-"

"Calm down." Her knowing smirk made him grind his teeth. "Maybe… Ah, I know. We'll tell her you graciously agreed that Dorian should have your ticket, so he can go with Alec. Of course you'll be sad to miss such an opportunity to widen your horizons, but since you have the Inquisitor's best interests at heart-"

"Dorian?" He was too surprised to resist the urge to interrupt her. "What do you mean? Is he here?"

"Indeed he is." Leliana's smile was positively malicious now. "Alec has already met him, and from what I've heard, their reunion was rather… fiery."

Cullen felt a hot blush rise to his cheeks as he remembered knocking on Alec's door earlier this afternoon. _I'm having an early night._ Of course. Dorian must have been there, and in all probability the two of them had been… He shook himself, trying to chase away the mental images.

Leliana had been watching him the entire time, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Well, thanks for keeping me informed, I guess." He knew he sounded too sharp, and he cast about for a way to change the subject. "Anything else I should know?"

"Not really. So far, everyone is pretending to be happy to see us." Leliana's voice sounded sweet and girlish again. Too sweet. He mentally braced himself for her next words. "Especially you, Commander. There have been at least five marriage proposals since tea-time."

"Not again." He almost whined. "Really, what have I done-"

Leliana didn't let him finish. "Well, if it bothers you so much, maybe you ought to do something about it. After all, if you were already taken…"  

Before he had time to come up with an answer, she was gone, leaving him to his own ruminations.

He didn't appreciate Leliana's meddling, but yes, he _had_ considered it, more than once in the past few days. _Marrying Cassandra._ It was the obvious solution, really, but they had never discussed it. In all the time they'd been together, it had never seemed necessary to make their relationship official. They loved each other, and surely, that was enough.

On the other hand… Back when they'd gone to visit his family, Mia had hinted more than once that he ought to propose, and even Branson, his younger brother, had muttered something about _making an honest woman out of your girl_. He'd laughed it off, but he had to admit, if they'd come to Halamshiral as husband and wife, things would have been easier.

But would _she_ want it? Maybe even welcome it? Or would she think his suggestion ridiculous? Cassandra was a romantic at heart, no one knew this better than he did. But marriage… that was a whole different kettle of fish. Cassandra was a fiercely independent woman, and he wasn't sure she would take well to the idea of being tied to him forever.

_Forever_. The rest of their lives. He shivered briefly, as the enormity of the thought hit him. Was he really ready for that? Staring up at the darkening night sky over the palace gardens, Cullen paused to listen to the quiet voice inside him, the one he'd learned to trust, and what he found there made him smile. With Cassandra, he had found certainty. He loved her. He wanted to be with her. He was happy and whole at her side. It was as simple as that.

An easy decision, really.


	44. Chapter 44

The day actually started out pretty well.

True, Dorian had to sneak off before sunrise to avoid getting caught in the Inquisitor's quarters. One of Leliana's trusted agents escorted him back to his rooms through the vast maze of servants' corridors hidden behind the ostentatious façade of the Winter Palace. It pained Alec to let him go, but it wouldn't do to flaunt their relationship too openly – even if he didn't doubt for a moment that every single spy in the palace knew perfectly well where the Tevinter ambassador had spent the night.

Still, even if his bed was colder than he liked, Alec woke with a happy sigh, yawning and stretching, blinking in the light of the morning sun. He felt sore all over, but he cherished every twinge and throb as reminders of his lover's passionate embraces. Dorian had been thorough in his attentions, showering Alec with caresses, as if to make sure he hadn't missed a single spot, and claiming him over and over again.

Carefully, Alec checked his appearance in the gilded wall mirror before heading out for breakfast. Somehow he'd managed to tame his tousled hair, and a few hours of sleep and a quick wash in icy water had mostly erased the traces of their nightly activities from his face. But there was an unmistakable hickey on his neck, right below his left ear, and he was grateful for the high collar of his parade uniform that mostly hid it.

Leliana spotted it anyway, of course, and she was smiling smugly while she explained their plans for the day. The Exalted Council would officially start in the early afternoon. Until then, Alec would be free to explore the palace grounds and _catch up with old friends_. Leliana's smile grew even more suggestive at those words.

"Oh, and his Grace, the Viscount of Kirkwall…" - _Varric,_ Alec translated mentally - "… has invited you to his suite for the evening, for a game of cards." Leliana pretended to consult her notes. "I quote: _to help you unwind after wasting so many hours of your precious time in the company of those noble nincompoops._ "

Alec felt his lips twitch. "Anything else?"

"Be very careful, Inquisitor." Leliana's expression had turned serious. "They are watching every one of your steps, determined to catch you out. One false move…" She didn't finish the sentence, but then she didn't have to.

Alec wandered off to the Palace Gardens as soon as he could. He spent a few minutes listening to Maryden, the Bard, who was practicing a new love song on the terrace outside the pub. Much to his surprise, Krem was there, too, watching her with rapt attention. When Maryden finished, the two of them walked off together, smiling and talking animatedly.

"They're cute, aren't they?" Bull smiled at him from the open window of the tavern. "Krem _really_ loves her music." He winked suggestively.

Alec cleared his throat. "I noticed. Does she know-"

"Yeah." Bull nodded earnestly. "They're good, Krem said."

"I'm glad." Alec yawned surreptitiously. "Where's Harding?"

"Up since before sunrise." There was a world of affection in Bull's tone. "All the intrigues and gossip in this place are keeping her busy. But she loves it."

"That's nice," Alec replied absent-mindedly. His attention was drawn by a small crowd of people near the central fountain. "I'll see you around, Bull."

When he got closer, he noticed they all had gathered around a woman wearing the characteristic headdress of a Revered Mother. Alec wasn't sure, but… Yes, now he could hear her voice and it definitely sounded like Mother Giselle. But what-

The gathered courtiers parted before him and he involuntarily gasped for air. Because there, right in front of her, Dorian was standing, his head respectfully inclined, while she raised her hand in benediction. "Go with my blessing, child," he heard her say. "May the Maker watch over you."

Nodding a greeting at Mother Giselle, Alec quickly drew Dorian aside. "What in Thedas was that supposed to mean?" he hissed sharply, as soon as they could be reasonably sure they wouldn't be overheard.

Dorian looked dazed, almost shaken, and he didn't answer straight away. When he did, his voice sounded strangled. "She _apologized_ , Alec! In front of everyone. She said…" He drew a shaky breath. "She said she'd been wrong to distrust me, and that she admired all I'd done for the Inquisition. And she asked my forgiveness."

Alec was flabbergasted. "She did _what_?"

"You heard me." Dorian huffed impatiently. "So tell me, what choice did I have? Of course I forgave her, and accepted her blessing and-" He broke off, laughing softly. "Clever old bat."

"I do think she meant it, though." Alec nodded slowly, feeling a smile rise to his face. "Mother Giselle may be many things, but she's not a liar. I have to say, I'm kind of impressed. It takes guts to admit you've been wrong."

"I never doubted her courage, _amatus_." But Dorian was smiling, too, and Alec had to restrain himself not to kiss him right there and then. "Do you have time to join me for lunch in my rooms?"

Alec's heart did a funny little leap. Such a small thing, sharing a meal, but it made him insanely happy. "Sure. I don't have anywhere else to be before the negotiations start."

"Well, then. Come along." Dorian lowered his voice. " Maybe we can squeeze in a little… chat, after our meal? If we make it quick?"

"I'm sure we can manage." Alec's face almost hurt from smiling. _Maker, I've missed him so much!_

* * *

Arl Teagan was clearly determined to make a nuisance of himself. The mere sight of his sour expression was enough to set Cassandra's teeth on edge. Really, would a little gratitude have been too much to expect? After all, it had been the Inquisition who had freed Redcliffe from the Venatori's grasp. It was only thanks to Alec and his companions that the man had an arldom left. And yet, here he was, glaring at them as if they were personally responsible for every single one of his problems.

Next to her, Leliana sighed deeply. "Such a pity." She tilted her head slightly toward Teagan. When Cassandra raised a questioning eyebrow, she elaborated in a hushed whisper. "He used to be so much nicer, back when his brother was still alive and he was but a simple bann. Quite good-looking, too." She sighed again. "Not that you'd know it, looking at him now."

Cassandra was bored enough to welcome any kind of distraction, and for the next few minutes, she entertained herself by taking a closer look at the men in the room and mentally rating their appearance. A frivolous undertaking, to be sure, but she _was_ getting desperate.

She had to agree with Leliana. The Arl looked terrible, pinched and older than his years, and his traditional Fereldan head garb did him no favours. Compared to him, even Duke Cyril was moderately attractive, as far as could be judged from what little of his face was visible behind his mask. But at least he was well-dressed and moved with a certain grace, and his calves looked shapely enough in their silken tights.

Of course, as far as Cassandra was concerned, Cullen made every other male in the room look insignificant anyway. Well, except for Alec maybe. The Inquisitor was a fine sight, without any doubt, lithe and graceful and impeccably turned out in his parade uniform. _Too young though. Too pretty. Too… cute._

Cullen, on the other hand… Despite the grumpy frown on his face, he was simply gorgeous, his hair and skin shimmering golden in the warm light of the afternoon sun, his shoulders wide and strong, the muscles in his thighs rippling as he impatiently shifted his stance. There was so much _strength_ in him, and it went far beyond his physical assets, impressive as they were. _My knight._ Looking at him, knowing he was hers… It simply took her breath away.

If only they didn't have to waste their time in this stuffy council chamber. If only they could find something useful to do, maybe spar together for a few rounds and afterwards… Cassandra just barely suppressed a wistful sigh.

Next to her, Leliana made a small, amused noise. "Pleasant dreams?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I'll leave you to enjoy them for a while. Charter seems to have news for me."

And indeed, Leliana's agent was gesticulating frantically at her from a door at the far end of the room. Cassandra watched her friend leave with no small amount of envy. _Wish I had a reason to get out of here_.

The formal greetings and introductions alone had taken several hours, and she was heartily sick of this whole business already. Alec was doing well so far, exuding an air of quiet, non-threatening competence as he answered the Arl's questions and thinly-veiled accusations.

Yes, he was conscious of the fact that the Inquisition maintaining an armed presence even after Corypheus' defeat might cause some to worry about their intentions. No, he had no plans whatsoever to use the power they had gathered for his personal advantage. Yes, the Inquisition continued to be needed. There were still threats that had to be addressed, after all, rifts and Venatori and rogue Templars and mages. No, he wasn't clinging to power just for the sake of it. He only wanted to be of service.

Cassandra rather admired Alec's patience, though she suspected it helped that he'd spent the night in Dorian's arms. Their behaviour the day before had caused a minor scandal, but Cassandra couldn't really bring herself to condemn them for it. Alec had looked so happy earlier today when he'd set off for lunch with Dorian, as if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders.

And besides, he was more than making up for any shortcomings today. Alec kept his poise, smiling serenely and answering with perfect equanimity, until Arl Teagan brought up the matter of Caer Bronach.

"We can't possibly allow your continued presence there, Inquisitor. Having your troops occupy a fortress on Fereldan soil-"

"That fortress was in the hands of bandits before we took it, Arl Teagan." For the first time, Alec allowed a cutting edge to creep into his voice. "The villagers of Crestwood were desperate. They _begged_ us to drive the ruffians out. Besides, you can't deny that keeping the trade routes in that part of the country safe is in everyone's best interest."

Arl Teagan's eyes narrowed. Obviously, he didn't appreciate the interruption. "That was two years ago, Inquisitor. Surely you can't expect the Crown to tolerate…"

On and on the arl's voice droned, and Cassandra stopped listening, glancing briefly over at Cullen. His frown had deepened even further, and he was gripping the hilt of his ceremonial sword so tightly that his knuckles were white with the strain. When she caught his gaze, he relaxed a little, though, and the hint of a smile played around his lips. Immediately, Cassandra was seized by a strong urge to kiss him, to drag him away from the chamber, to a more private venue. If she could have him to herself for just a few minutes, they-

Before she had time to chastise herself for her inappropriate thoughts, the door opened to admit one of Leliana's most trusted agents. Cassandra didn't remember her name, but she'd seen her often at the spymaster's side. Sidling up to Alec, the girl whispered something in his ear. His expression was hard to read – surprise, concern, a hint of fear and… yes, unmistakable relief.

Taking a step forward, he raised his voice, addressing himself directly to the Divine. "My sincere apologies, but I have to ask you to excuse me, Most Holy. An urgent matter has come up, one that requires my personal attention. Lady Montilyet, could you please?" He gestured for Josephine to take his place.

Vivienne's eyebrows shot straight up, but she nodded calmly, dismissing Alec with a quick gesture and ignoring Arl Teagan's sputtered protests. Cassandra joined Alec and Cullen as they left the room, her heart beating with excitement. Whatever had come up, it had to be better than sitting around and listening to the diplomats' posturing. She couldn't wait to find out what was going on.

* * *

"Ser Pavus! They told me you were here. The Inquisitor must be so pleased." Somehow Harding succeeded in injecting only the barest minimum of innuendo into her words, and the bright smile on her sweet little face was guileless and sincere. "We're all glad that you're back with us."

"Harding. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Dorian?" Dorian smiled back. He didn't have to fake it, not with Harding. He was truly happy to see her again.

"Ah, no, that wouldn't do." She shook her head earnestly. "The Lady Seeker would have my head for that. But tell me…" Her sharp eyes inspected him from head to toe. "What was it like for you, being back home? Weird, uh?"

"Definitely weird." He nodded _._ "I did appreciate the climate, mind you. So nice to finally be warm again. But at the same time-" He broke off, unsure of how much he wanted to say.

"You felt like a stranger?" Harding finished his sentence for him. Not for the first time, he marvelled at her perspicacity. _She will go far in Leliana’s employ, no doubt about it._ "I know the feeling," she added when she saw the expression on his face. "I went home to see my parents, after we'd defeated Corypheus. They were sweet, but-"

"They didn't understand." This time he ended up completing the sentence for her. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we? All of us?"

"We sure have." She smiled warmly, but then clearly decided that their conversation was getting too weighty for her taste. "I need a drink. Come on. Let's find Bull."

Dorian followed her into the tavern, glad for something to do, while he waited for Alec's return. He didn't expect him back before nightfall, and it wouldn't surprise him if the negotiations took even longer. The Fereldan and Orlesian envoys were clearly in a belligerent mood.

They found Bull at the bar. He greeted Harding with an affectionate grunt, pulling her into his lap without further preamble. Dorian had to hide a smile. It was nice to know those two were still going strong.

Unfortunately, they hadn't even ordered their drinks yet when an Inquisition scout showed up in the doorway and signalled urgently at Harding.

"Aw, sod it!" She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, love, I need to go. Don't be mad at me, please." Breathing a quick kiss on Bull's forehead, right above his eyepatch, she slid off his lap and made for the door.

"Don't worry, _kadan_." Bull's voice was brimming with gentleness. Dorian noticed his fingers curling in an unconscious gesture around a new necklace he was wearing. "Dorian will keep me entertained, won't you?"

"I'll do my best." Dorian didn't bother to hide his grin any longer. " _Kadan_ , eh?" He knew enough Qunlat to understand the word. _My heart._ Clearly, their relationship had progressed quite a bit in his absence.

Bull actually blushed. "Yeah, well… You know how it is." Rubbing his neck, he gave Dorian a sly look. "What about you? You're looking a lot better today. The boss been helping you polish your staff?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

It was such a blatantly obvious attempt to change the subject that Dorian didn't even flinch at the vulgarity. Instead, he rolled his eyes skyward in mute exasperation.

Before he could come up with a suitable reply, Harding was back, looking grim. "You'd better come along, Bull. The Inquisitor has asked for you, too."

"Me?" Bull shook his head so vehemently that Dorian only narrowly avoided being grazed by his horns. "Why does he want me?"

"To ask your advice, would be my guess." Harding lowered her voice. "About the dead Qunari next door."


	45. Chapter 45

"We've followed the blood trail, and it leads to an active eluvian. It seems there are more of them left than Morrigan thought." Alec's expression was focussed, and his voice was clear and firm, but Dorian knew him well enough to see that he wasn't happy with the news. "Anyway, as far as I can see, we have no choice but to go through the portal if we want to find out where our deceased friend came from. Unless anyone has a better idea?" He glanced at Bull, who clearly didn't appreciate this turn of events either.

"None." Bull shook his massive head. "The dead guy was _Antaam_ – a warrior, not a spy. As for how he got here and why… I have no idea. Somehow I can't imagine the Arishok authorizing forays into Orlesian territory at this point." He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I can't help you more, boss. That's the downside of being Tal-Vashoth, I guess."

Alec's sudden bright smile made Dorian's heart ache. "It's fine, Bull. I'd rather have you less well-informed but firmly on my side in this."

"And so you will, boss." Bull's fist came down heavily on the carved and gilded desk. "We will get to the bottom of this."

Dorian found himself nodding in confirmation. They had hastily assembled for a meeting in Alec's quarters: Cullen, Cassandra, Josephine, and Leliana, with Bull and himself tagging along. So far, they had managed to keep the dead Qunari a secret, but they would have to act quickly, and decisions needed to be made.

It had been a long time since Dorian had last seen Alec in council with his most trusted advisors, and the difference to those early meetings back in Haven was striking. Alec had become so decisive, so self-assured. No more floundering, no more trying to please everyone. Dorian felt a fierce surge of pride at the sight of him.

"We should leave as soon as possible. Of course that will mean leaving Josephine to deal with Arl Teagan and Duke Cyril all by herself." Alec glanced ruefully at Josephine. "Can you forgive me, Josie? I wouldn't trust anyone but you with handling such a delicate situation."

Josephine's bad mood visibly melted away at his words and Dorian had to hide a smile. _For all that he's changed, he's still as charming and persuasive as ever_.

"Don't worry, Alec. I will take care of this for you. But please…" The ambassador sighed deeply. "Make it quick. Polite excuses will only work for so long."

Cullen snorted contemptuously and was about to speak, but a quick look from Alec silenced him. _Impressive_. Dorian raised an eyebrow. No, there was no longer any doubt as to who was leading the Inquisition.

Alec cleared his throat. "I promise we will do our best. Cassandra, Bull, are you with me?" Without waiting for their replies, he turned to Dorian. "I know you have your duties as an ambassador to consider, Dorian, but-"

"It's a token appointment, really." Dorian dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Call on me as you like. I'm all yours."

Alec's expression softened, and just for a heartbeat, his feelings showed clearly on his face. _He knows. He understands exactly what I've been saying._ Dorian swallowed hard, glad that Alec had his back turned on the others. Quickly, he tried to lighten the mood. "I do hate portals, though. They always make me queasy."

"Nothing to be done about that, I'm afraid." Alec looked calm and collected again. "Meet me at the eluvian in an hour. We have no time to lose."

* * *

Just as Alec had expected, the mirror took them to the place Morrigan had called the _Crossroads_ , that odd place between worlds. It was much as Alec remembered it: not quite as strange as the Fade, but still different, _other,_ its strange and twisting topography hard to comprehend for mere human senses. The lighting was all wrong, too, and the air felt thick with electricity. _Well, at least the waterfalls aren't upside down._

Behind him, Dorian made a small, startled noise, and yes, he did look mildly sick. But his befuddled expression quickly gave way to intense curiosity. Alec smiled to himself. The last time they had travelled through the eluvian network, on their way back from the Temple of Mythal, they'd been on the run from Corypheus, far too frazzled and scared to explore it further. This time, while they were by no means in a leisurely mood, they could afford to look around.

From where they were standing, several eluvians were visible, some of them without obvious means of access, others easy to reach on foot. Well, easy to reach if you weren't afraid of heights. The narrow paths along rocky ledges and sheer drops into the void were definitely not for the faint of heart. But Alec didn't mind. It was beautiful, in an eerie kind of way.

And there was the blood trail, starting right at their feet and leading to a plain, unadorned mirror not far from them. When they approached it, they found that it was active, too; an open portal, a gateway to the unknown.

"Ugh." Dorian made a face. "Do we really want to do this? For all we know, we could end up in a field of lava or in the middle of the ocean."

"We need to follow the trail. It's our only lead," Alec pointed out. "And at least we know there has to be a mirror on the other side, too."

"A mirror and a whole garrison of Qunari, in all probability." Dorian shook himself. "What if we all get butchered the moment we step out of the portal?"

"That… is actually a valid point." Cassandra looked suddenly uncomfortable. "If this is where the dead soldier came from, we are bound to encounter more of his kind. Still, I don't see what else we can do."

"Exactly." Bull winked at Alec. "And as for those hypothetical Qunari _butchering_ us…" He chuckled. "I’d like to see them try. But hey, mage boy, if they scare you, feel free to cast a barrier before we go."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Right. A barrier. You do realize that once it collides with the magic of the portal, all bets are off?"

"Enough." Alec was beginning to feel irritated. "As Cassandra said, we have no choice. Stay alert, everyone. We'll just have to risk it."

Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the eluvian. When the now-familiar feeling of dizziness had passed, they found themselves in the ruins of an old tower, elven, by the looks of it. And they were clearly on the right track. Another Qunari had bled to death on the cold stone floor, just a few steps ahead of them.

" _Karashok_. A foot soldier." Bull’s face was grim. "Damn it, none of this makes sense so far."

"True." Cassandra shook her head. "The Qunari are clearly up to something, but there's someone else involved. A third player. Someone who is trying to stop the Qunari, it seems."

"Someone who wants the same thing we want, then." Alec smiled grimly. "Of course that doesn't automatically make us friends."

Moments later, they stepped out into bright sunlight. From their perch on top of the tower, they had a pleasant view of a beautiful green valley, stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions. The calm waters of a lake were glittering in the distance, and various other ruins were scattered all over it. The whole scene looked calm and serene – if you didn't count the scorched flagstones and the remarkably lifelike statues of fighting Qunari surrounding another eluvian.

_Not statues,_ Alec realized on closer inspection. No statue could be _that_ lifelike.

Dorian ran a careful hand along one muscly petrified arm and made an odd little noise. "This is powerful magic, _amatus_." His voice was hoarse. "Whoever did this was no hedge wizard."

Alec nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He gestured for the others to follow him through the mirror, in the hopes that it would take them to another part of the ruins.

What followed was the strangest journey ever. Travelling from one tower to the other by means of the eluvians, doing their best not to lose their bearings completely, they patiently struggled to sort out what was going on here. It didn't help that several mirrors were broken and they had to find their way around them. Nor was their task made any easier by the elven spirits that attacked them soon after their arrival, or by the discovery of a mysterious bridge mechanism that refused to budge, no matter how they tried to manipulate it.

When Alec saw the temple ruin on the other side of the blocked bridge, he knew where they had to go. Situated in the middle of a lake, it was impressive and beautiful, even in its current state of ruin. And right in front of it, a battle was going on, Qunari fighting against more of the elven spirits. There was no doubt that this was their goal; this was the place they needed to reach.

But as for finding a way there… It seemed so easy, but no matter where they went, it was the same. More mirrors, more dark hallways, more spirits and more dead Qunari, and they didn't appear to be one step closer to their goal.

Their first real clue as to the nature of the place came when they found an intricate mosaic on the wall of one of the towers. It depicted a wolf's head above a pattern of plant-like symbols, and it was buzzing with magic. As soon as he got close to it, Alec's mark gave a sudden, painful sting. Without quite knowing why, he raised his hand, as if he was closing a rift, and it immediately connected with the mosaic.

A rush of powerful images washed over him: slaves freed from their chains; a safe haven; and above all one image, one powerful creature, watching over all of it. _The Dread Wolf._

"Fen Harel." Alec's voice sounded strange and hollow to his own ears. "He built this place, as a sanctuary. But-"

Before he could go on, the mosaic dissolved, making room for a corridor leading to yet another mirror. Alec sighed from the bottom of his heart. He was getting tired of this game, confused by the maze of portals and stairways, and some part of him wished he could just go home. He wanted nothing more than to leave all of this behind and to huddle up in his bed in Dorian's arms, hiding from all his problems.

But at the same time he felt strangely compelled to go on. It was almost as if his mark was guiding him, as if the Anchor was leading him on, demanding that he get to the heart of all this.

They found more mosaics, and with their help, they slowly began to piece together a story. It wasn't pretty. If what the visions claimed was true, the old elven gods had been nothing but power-hungry mortal mages who had enslaved the rest of the elven populace, until Fen Harel had decided to free them. Alec’s mind was spinning at the implications. Elves enslaving elves… Knowledge like this, in the wrong hands, could lead to all kinds of unwarranted conclusions. Yet how could they keep the rest of Thedas from learning it?

Only moments later, all those considerations were violently driven from Alec's mind. They entered an underground chamber hidden deep within the ruins, and his mark flared up as it had never done before. Alec felt the pain all through his body, but more than that, he had the oddest feeling that something had changed. And that change scared him, more than he could say. Something… new and alien was pulsing under the skin of his palm, some power that he couldn't quite control, unlike the steady, reliable focus he was used to.

He must have cried out, because Dorian was at his side in an instant, pale with worry. " _Amatus._ What happened?"

Instinctively, he shrugged it off. He didn't want Dorian to worry, and besides, he wasn't sure if it wasn't just the weirdness of their surroundings that was getting to him. _Yes. That's all_. "I'm fine. A little sting, nothing more."

He could see Dorian wasn't convinced, but there was no time for explanations. The strange urge was still pulling at him, and they hadn't found a way to the island yet.

"Boss?" Bull had gone on to the middle of the room where a small wolf statue was resting on a pedestal. "Think this has something to do with the bridge mechanism we saw up on top?"

He reached for the artefact. Both Cassandra and Dorian cried out in warning, but it was too late.

The moment Bull picked the statuette up, all hell broke loose.

* * *

"You really must come and visit us at Chateau d'Enfer, my dearest Commander." The Comtesse's artificially cheerful voice grated on his nerves. "Our little Monique will be so happy to see you again."

Biting his tongue, Cullen swept the lady and her daughter a deep, respectful bow and made for the exit as quickly as he could. _Your little Monique is pushing thirty and desperate to find a husband before it's too late._ Though, to be fair, at least the young woman had been an entertaining conversationalist, which was more than he could say for most of the barely nubile girls the Orlesian nobility were in the habit of pushing at him.

He had hoped to sneak away to his room, now that the official part of the reception was over, but of course it wasn't to be. Josephine waylaid him before he could reach the door and dragged him over to a corner to meet yet another girl in a mask and courtly robes.

"Commander. Allow me to present my younger sister, Lady Yvette Montilyet."

"Lady Yvette. We have met before, I believe." Doing his best to hide his frustration, he nodded briskly at the younger Montilyet sister, hoping to get out of this with a few polite platitudes.

But clearly, Yvette was made of different stuff than the Orlesian maidens. Ignoring his stiff posture, she took a step closer and breathed a quick kiss on each of his cheeks. Her lips were soft and she smelled of spices and amber, a far more daring scent than the floral perfumes the other ladies preferred. Her gown was cut differently, too, Cullen couldn't help but observe, with a rather tight bodice that showed off her firm, high breasts.

"Of course we have met. How could I forget?" Yvette giggled excitedly. "I am an artist, you know. We have an eye for physical perfection." Her Antivan accent was pronounced, and through the slits of her mask her dark eyes were flashing fire at him.

"Really, Yvette!" Josephine rolled her eyes at her sister and left them to their own devices, already on the lookout for another introduction to be made, another contact to be initiated.

Left alone with Lady Yvette, Cullen found himself completely tongue-tied. Dimly he was aware that he should probably compliment her in return, and try to steer the conversation into more conventional paths.

But before he had gathered his wits, Yvette was already talking again, running her small hand suggestively over his brocade-clad biceps. "You know, I was thinking of doing a series of warrior paintings for my next exhibition." She bit her lip charmingly. "Of course, I could do so much better with a proper model. Do you think that maybe you could make time for a few sessions, Commander?"

_A proper what?_ Cullen wasn't sure he had heard right. "Lady Yvette, I'm flattered that you would consider this, but I really don't have any plans to have my portrait done and-"

"Oh, I was not talking about a portrait." Her voice dropped to a breathless whisper. "You see; I am really interested in _anatomical_ studies right now."

Cullen was suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot. Surely, he had to have misunderstood her. "You are saying…"

"It would be tastefully done, of course," she hastily assured him. "Probably in the classical Tevinter style. I can see it before me right now. The ruins of a temple in the background, maybe a dragon in flight on the horizon, and in the centre of the painting, _you_ , wrestling down a Qunari with your bare hands, your skin glistening with oil, the muscles in your back straining as you force him to the ground…"

_Glistening skin?_ Cullen coughed audibly. "Lady Yvette, are you actually proposing that I pose _without clothes_?" He was more shocked than he let on. Of course he had _heard_ of such things, but for a well-bred young lady like her to suggest-

"Well of course!" Yvette tsked in exasperation. "Nudes are so much more expressive, don't you think? Of course we would probably have to add a loincloth to the finished painting. Those Orlesians are such _prudes_. But if we want to capture the artistic spirit of the ancients…"

Cullen knew his face had turned flaming red. "I… really don't think I can be of any help in this admirable endeavour, Lady Yvette. You see, my position in the Inquisition-"

"Oh, don't be such a bore. You are just as bad as Josie." Yvette pouted prettily. "It is _art_ , Commander! Just think of how sublime it would be. I haven't been so inspired in _months_."

He firmly shook his head. "No. I'm very sorry."

Quickly, he made his excuses and left, and this time, he actually succeeded in extricating himself. As he headed for his quarters, a mental image of Cassandra’s expression if she ever heard of Yvette’s proposal flashed before his inner eye and he flinched at the mere idea. _Then again, maybe she'd like it,_ a small, treacherous voice whispered at the back of his mind. _Maybe she'd buy the picture and keep it for herself._ He shuddered all over. It was true, Cassandra had never made a secret of how much she appreciated his physical assets. In fact, he remembered one particular night-

With a groan, he tore himself away from the mental images. They were too cruel a temptation, with the woman he loved gone away on a dangerous mission, and his bed cold and lonely. And yet, he didn't quite succeed in banishing them from his mind.

He really couldn't wait for Cassandra to be back.


	46. Chapter 46

"Well, this is certainly an interesting development." Leliana raised an eyebrow. "Those orders you found prove that the Qunari have plans to infiltrate the Winter Palace. But what for? Why would they wish to provoke a war, all of a sudden?"

"I have no idea." Alec flinched as his mark throbbed again, more painfully than before. "At any rate, I think they are as baffled as we are about this elven mage who is killing off their soldiers. They claim he's an _agent of Fen'Harel,_ but-"

Next to him, Cullen made a small, impatient noise. "More elven gods coming back to life and taking an interest in the affairs of mortals. Are we really supposed to believe that?"

Leliana sighed. "It might just be a figure of speech. The Qunari love flowery language on occasion. Then again, if Mythal is still around, who knows? And you said you encountered mysterious guardian spirits, Alec?"

"Yes. Mysterious and deadly." Alec shivered all over, suppressing a yawn.

Maker, but he was exhausted. He'd called his advisors together immediately after their return from the elven towers, with just enough time for everyone to wash and get out of their armour. There was no time to lose. Leliana needed to know what they'd learned, as soon as possible. But he was tired beyond belief and worried about Dorian, who had taken a nasty blow to the side of his head in the last fight, and who was being tended to by the Inquisition's best healers right now.

"I wish we could have questioned those guardians," he said aloud. "But they didn't understand our language. And they weren't too happy when Bull put his hands on that artefact."

"Well, how was I to know they would attack?" Bull tried to shrug, wincing when the movement threatened to make the make-shift bandage around his shoulder come loose. "And you've got to admit I was right about that thing."

The tiny wolf statue they had found had indeed turned out to be the missing key to the bridge mechanism. But, by the time they'd reached the temple ruin on the island, they'd been battered and weakened from defending themselves against the spirit guardians. And the fighting had been far from over. Maybe they should just have stood by and watched as the elven ghost warriors and the Qunari decimated each other. But of course, they'd joined the fray - only to find _both_ parties turn against them. It had been a close call, closer than Alec had liked.

And really, for all their trouble, they were only marginally wiser than they'd been before. They would have to go back to the Crossroads and find out more, once they'd rested.

"We need to know more." Leliana echoed Alec's thoughts. "We can't warn people if we don't know what the danger is."

"But surely you are going to inform the Divine and the ambassadors now." Josephine had been quiet so far, but seemed visibly agitated.

oAlec almost pitied her. She ohad put so much effort into the preparation of this Council, so much thought into the right approach, only to see it all endangered by these new developments. But, much as it pained him, he couldn't agree with her. There was no way they could risk telling Arl Teagan and Duke Cyril about the situation at this juncture.

Leliana exchanged a brief glance with him, then shook her head. "Not yet, Josie. We would only add to their distrust. Later, perhaps."

The Iron Bull grunted his support, and Cassandra nodded quietly. She had spoken little so far, keeping close to Cullen's side, apparently grateful for his support. _Seems she's had enough for today as well._

"But-" Josephine clearly didn't agree, but Alec raised his hand to silence her.

"I'm sorry, Josie, but we need to rest." He sighed. "Bull and Dorian are wounded, and I am exhausted. We can resume the bickering tomorrow."

"My apologies, Alec." Josephine looked deeply concerned, and a little ashamed. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Smiling wearily at her, he dismissed them all.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts before setting out for Dorian's quarters. He was worried about his beloved, but he really needed a moment to breathe. Pouring himself a goblet of wine, he took a deep draught, closing his eyes and trying to gather his strength. The Anchor was still pulsing under his skin, dull and insistent, and he wondered what it meant.

Anders' words, back in the Blackmarsh, came back to him. _It may get worse in the future, and I don't think there's much to be done about that_. If a healer mage of Anders' calibre couldn't help, there was little point in asking the Inquisition's field surgeons. _If Solas was still around_ … He stopped short at that thought. Where had it come from, all of a sudden?

It was true, though. Solas had helped him contain the anchor, back then, right after the explosion. Solas would know. Then again, Solas had known about plenty of things, and he hadn't seen fit to tell them in all of his time with the Inquisition. The thought still made a bitter taste rise in Alec's throat. If only he had been able to win the elf's trust. If only-

With a sigh, he put down the goblet. This was going nowhere. He'd better go and check up on Dorian instead.

* * *

Cassandra was grateful to Alec for keeping the meeting short. She'd been luckier than the others and had returned from their adventure pretty much unharmed. But she agreed that they needed to rest and, besides, she wanted some time with Cullen before they left again. Fortunately, Leliana and Josie didn't linger, and Bull disappeared with a quick wink at her, so within moments of leaving Alec's quarters, she found herself alone with the man she loved.

Well, as alone as they would ever be, here in the Palace, with the eyes of half the Court resting upon them. Cullen smiled at her as they walked side by side, but he kept a polite distance, just as he had when he'd greeted her earlier. It drove her mad. She wanted to _touch_ him, to kiss him, to hide her face against his wide chest and forget about the rest of the world for a while. She wanted to sleep in his arms tonight, and it just wasn't _fair_ that she couldn't.

"What's the matter? You look unusually grumpy." Cullen shot her a look that was equal parts amusement and concern. "Are you well?"

She nodded briskly. "Yes. It's just-" They had turned into a deserted corridor, and she couldn't resist taking his arm. "I've missed you."

A shudder went through his whole body. Quickly glancing up and down the hallway, he dragged her into a window alcove, where a heavy curtain hid them from view. "Cassandra."

And then his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her, with the same ferocious hunger she remembered from their first kisses, back when he'd finally plucked up the courage to pull her into his arms. And Maker, it was exciting to feel his need, to realize he'd been craving this just as much as she had. Shifting in his arms, she aligned their bodies for maximum contact, pushing her thigh just a tiny bit between his, and yes, he was already hard in his fine leather pants, magnificently hard and eager. Cassandra moaned against his mouth, completely unable to contain the sound, and he responded with a deep, throaty groan.

"We have to stop, love." He tried to push her back, even as his hips were grinding into her of their own volition. "Now, or I-"

Cassandra cursed under her breath. She didn't want to stop, didn't want to walk away from this and spend yet another night writhing in frustration on her fine satin sheets. She wanted him, now. Quickly, she glanced up and down the corridor. Still no one in sight, and the curtain would shield them from the eyes of anyone who wasn't looking too closely. They wouldn't get a better chance. Without missing a beat, she dropped to her knees and cupped him firmly through his pants.

Cullen's head flew back against the wall with an audible thud and he groaned again, even more urgently. "Sweet Andraste, Cassandra, you can't-"

"Oh yes, I can." Before she could lose her nerve, she undid the laces on his pants and seconds later, she had her hands on him, and he was helpless to do anything but stare down at her.

Maker, she had _missed_ his cock so much. She almost regretted that she didn't have more time to tease him, but for all of her daring, she didn't really fancy getting caught. Still, she took a moment to touch her cheek to the velvety skin, to breathe a soft, fluttery kiss on the tip of his cock before she took him deep into her mouth. Cullen cursed violently under his breath, and she felt his thighs vibrate with tension.

Closing her eyes, Cassandra focussed completely on his pleasure, relishing his moans and sighs. It had taken her quite a while to get comfortable with this. She had read plenty about such endeavours, back before they had made love, and considering Cullen's efforts to please her, it had seemed only fair to return the favour. Still, she had felt horribly awkward and clumsy at first. But he'd been patient with her, and now… Now she loved it, all of it, the taste of him on her tongue, the way he'd twitch and shiver between her lips, the expression of sheer wonder in his eyes afterwards.

And she knew him so well now, knew exactly when to suck harder and when to pull back and tease him with the merest flutter of a caress. She knew what he liked best, knew every sensitive spot of his, knew how to use her lips, her tongue, and occasionally the barest hint of teeth. And she could tell when he was getting close, by the way he went taut all over, struggling to keep from thrusting; and by the small helpless noises he made, incoherent, desperate pleas for more. Cullen was usually very quiet when they made love, but he could never stay quiet when she had her mouth on him. And she loved that, too, the fact that she could break his control and make him forgo his usual reserve.

Once more she sucked, steady and deep, and he gave in, his hands tightening on her shoulders as he poured himself into her mouth, whispering her name like a prayer, over and over. As soon as he had recovered, he pulled her up into his arms and embraced her tightly, stammering his thanks between kisses that were both tender and passionate.

Cassandra would have loved to linger, but Cullen had just about managed to tuck himself away when the sound of voices and approaching footsteps drove them from their hiding place. Somehow they managed to compose their expressions enough not to rouse the suspicions of the passing courtiers. Cullen still looked a little flushed, but they would probably attribute his colouring to a day spent in the sun. Or so Cassandra hoped.

They parted in front of her quarters, exchanging polite nods.

"I feel bad about leaving you like this," Cullen muttered, his lips barely moving.

"Don't." She wanted to embrace him so badly, but she was all too aware of the eyes of the Orlesian honour guards upon them. "You can make it up to me next time."

"Maker, yes." He swallowed hard. "Good night, Cassandra. Sleep well." 

"You, too, Commander." She watched him leave, keeping her expression aloof and distanced.

But Maker, it was hard. His taste still lingered on her lips, and the sound of his moans was fresh in her memory. _Next time better be soon_.  

* * *

When Dorian opened his eyes, the whole world seemed to sway back and forth on invisible hinges. It took a while until he was able to focus. Yet, eventually, his vision cleared enough for him to make sense of his surroundings.

He was in his room at the Winter Palace, lying outstretched on the big, comfortable bed. It was dark outside, and only a single candle was burning, on a desk opposite his bed. His robes were on the floor, in an untidy heap, which irritated him beyond measure. The smell of elfroot was pervasive, and when he gingerly raised a hand, he found a bandage wrapped around his head. _Damn it. My injuries must have been worse than I'd thought._

Dimly, he recalled a Qunari warrior lunging at him from behind a column with his shield raised. Thanks to his quick reflexes, Dorian had been able to sidestep him and evade the brunt of the attack, and only moments later Bull had buried his axe deep between the attacker's head and shoulder. But the upper rim of his shield had grazed the side of Dorian's head before the attacker went down. In the heat of the battle, Dorian had hardly noticed the dizziness or the fine trickle of blood down his cheek. Yet, as soon as they'd emerged from the eluvian into the safety of the Palace, he must have lost consciousness.

Blinking again, he raised his head a little higher and tried to sit up, but was hit immediately by a wave of nausea. _Kaffas!_ What was going on? Why had they left him here, all alone and well-nigh helpless? Where were the healers? Where was _Alec_? He fought back a sudden attack of panic, scolding himself for his silliness. Clearly, someone had taken good care of his wounds, and besides, he was as safe as he could be here in his own quarters. And yet, the situation made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

He was still debating whether or not he should try to raise his head again, when he heard Alec's familiar voice, soft and low. "Dorian? Are you asleep?"

A cool hand cupped his cheek, and he almost sobbed with relief. "Alec. Thank the Maker. What-"

"Shhh." He felt the scrape of stubble against his cheek as Alec breathed a kiss on his temple. "You will be fine. The healer says the scrapes will heal without stitches. He didn't even have to shave off your hair. You're still as pretty as you used to be." Alec's teasing tone did more to reassure Dorian than his actual words. "But you're concussed, and you will have to rest for a few days. No physical exertion of any kind, and no reading either."

"Great." Dorian closed his eyes again, breathing in Alec's scent. "I'm going to die of boredom. I…  don't assume you have time to spare to sit at my bedside?"

It was said lightly, but somewhere deep down inside him a voice was screaming for Alec to say yes, to assure him that he wouldn't be alone.

But Alec sighed, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm sorry, Dorian. I'd love to stay with you, but I can't. There's no time to waste, if we want to foil the Qunari's plan. Tomorrow morning, we will go back to the Crossroads and try to find more clues."

"Of course you will." Dorian fought back the urge to cry, scolding himself for it at the same time. _Stop behaving like a spoilt child_. Was it the head wound that had turned him into such a weakling? He'd gone through worse, damn it, and he would pull himself together! "I'm sorry I can't come with you. Will you be all right without a mage?"

Alec nodded. "It's not ideal, but I think we can manage. They've all offered to help, you know. Rainier, Cole, Sera. Even Varric. I'm not sure who to take with me at this point, to be honest." His fingers traced gentle circles on Dorian's cheek. "They all send their love and their best wishes for your recovery." He chuckled softly. "At least I think that's what Cole meant. He's still too cryptic for me most of the time."

Dorian felt a smile tug at his lips. "Whatever it was, I'm sure Cole means well." A thought struck him. "You should take _him_ with you, you know. He's quick with those daggers. And maybe…" Another wave of dizziness made it difficult to go on, but this was important. "Maybe his spirit nature can be of help in sorting out what's happening to the Anchor."

"Don't you worry about that." Alec's light-hearted tone was clearly faked, but Dorian was too exhausted to call him out for it. "I'm fine, and so will you be, if you sleep a while."

"Alec." Instinctively, he clung to his beloved's hand. "Please be careful. Promise me."

"Of course." Alec returned the pressure, before carefully freeing his hand from Dorian's grasp, reaching for a large goblet. "Now, I have a sleeping draught for you, and I want you to be good and drink all of it. One of Leliana's agents will keep watch over you while you're incapacitated. You need to rest."

The nausea was getting worse again, and his head had started to pound. Dorian hated to admit it, but Alec was right. Nodding carefully, he allowed Alec to prop up his head and to put the goblet to his lips. The last thing he saw was Alec's mouth forming the words _I love you_. Then the world went blissfully dark again.

 

 


	47. Chapter 47

The next eluvian took them right into the Deep Roads, much to Alec's dismay.

He hated being underground, hated the weight of the rock above him, the feeling of being locked in, held down, smothered. Exploring Valammar with Varric and Bianca had been bad enough, but at least there, they had been in a proper thaig, with well-lit passages and impressive buildings and statues. Most of the time they had even been able to see the sky through cracks in the ceiling.

This section of the Deep Roads was a completely different story. Down here, deep underground, it was dark and dangerous, with Qunari and deepstalkers attacking them at every corner. The walls and floors were uneven and damaged in places, and when the main thoroughfare was suddenly cut off, they were left staring down into a gaping abyss. The only path open to them was a narrow, winding side passage, and the mere thought of going in there made Alec feel as if the breath was squeezed from his lungs.

"I'm sorry. I can't." He was embarrassed to say it, but there was no way he could bring himself to enter the impenetrable darkness of the tunnel. "At least not without a proper light."

"But we need to go further down." Cassandra looked exasperated. "We should have brought a lantern."

Bull muttered a curse under his breath, but didn't seem to have a better solution. Alec was still struggling, trying to pick up the courage to go on, when Cole spoke.

"You have a light." He gestured at the mark on Alec's hand, which was pulsing again, emitting a dim greenish light. "Bright and brilliant, burning, bursting."

"It's not enough, Cole." Alec sighed. "See?"

He raised his hand to illustrate his point, but then he frowned. What if… Without quite knowing why, he focussed on the pulse under his skin, the power building within the Anchor, irresistible, unstoppable, and-  There was a flash of pain, and then a burst of light broke from his palm, illuminating the way several steps ahead. He could see now that the passage was short, and that there was a bigger room behind it, just around the corner.

Suppressing a pained groan, he gestured for the others. "Follow me."

Alec had to use the mark several more times, and every time the pain got a little worse, but at least the thing was of some use now. And it was good to have regained a measure of control over it.

Cole remained close to him, watching his face whenever the mark lit up, quietly observing. When he finally spoke, it came as a shock. "Your hand hurts."

Alec nodded, wondering if he should say more. He had never really got into the habit of talking to Cole. The spirit's habit of vocalizing people's thoughts unnerved him, and most of the time he found his remarks more or less unintelligible. But he knew Dorian trusted Cole. More than once, Alec had seen the two of them engaged in conversation, and it had been clear from Dorian's expression that the topic had been intensely personal.

"There's pain." He took a deep, even breath. "But not more than I can bear."

Cole tilted his head to the side a little. "A heartbeat. Not yours. Hammering the beat of a song in its final verse. I'm sorry."

Alec swallowed. _Final verse_. That didn't sound good. "It used to hurt before, back when I first got the mark. But then, Solas helped me."

"Yes." Cole nodded earnestly. "He helped me, too. He taught me to forgive, reminded me of my purpose, made me clean and clear again. I would have liked to help _him_. But he went away."

"He did." Alec's throat felt tight. "I wish I knew what he was up to. It worries me."

Cole's brow furrowed. "[Solas](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Solas) doesn't want to hurt anybody. He's not that kind of wolf."

"What-" _And here he goes again._ With a resigned sigh, Alec turned away from Cole. He didn't have time for riddles right now. "Never mind."

"Dorian cares for you." Cole gripped his sleeve, sounding eager, as if he wanted to make up for his earlier obscurity. "He wasn't sure at first. Unlearning not to hope for more. Wishing but wondering, wounded and wistful. But now he knows. Now he loves. Just like you."

"I…" Alec felt like crying, but he did his best to smile. "Thank you, Cole."

* * *

Once again, Dorian was waiting for news from Alec. Once again, there was nothing he could do but be patient and keep himself busy. Which was easier said than done.

It wasn't so bad during the first two days, when he’d spent most of the time in a drugged sleep, grateful for a respite from the pounding pain in his temple. By the third morning, the pain had gone, but the healers still wouldn't allow him a book, and the boredom quickly began wearing on his nerves. Varric showed up to keep him company for a while, and his stories were entertaining enough, but eventually he had to leave to see to his own duties. And Dorian was back to staring at the wall, trying to avoid imagining all the bad things that could have befallen Alec and the others.

And yet, when Alec finally showed up, at the end of the fifth day, Dorian almost missed it because he had fallen into a fitful and restless slumber. It was only when Alec breathed a kiss on his forehead that he woke up.

Quickly, he gripped Alec's wrist to stop him from leaving. "You're back!"

"Yes." Alec looked pale and exhausted, but he had no visible wounds and the ghost of a smile was playing around his lips. "It's good to be back."

"What have you found?" Eagerly, Dorian sat up, flinching when a sharp stab of pain in his head reminded him of the healer's exhortations to take it slow. "More news on the Qunari?"

"Quite a bit, yes." Alec sounded content, even if his forehead was creased with worry. "The eluvian took us to an old dwarven mine, somewhere in the Deep Roads. The Qunari were trying to extract lyrium there, to strengthen their mages."

"Wait a minute." It was Dorian's turn to frown. "An elven mirror in the deep roads? Qunari mining for lyrium? To give it to their _saarebas_? None of this makes sense."

"That's what Bull said, too." Alec nodded. "It's confusing. We met an ex-Templar down there, and he told us that the Qunari are led by someone called the _Viddasala_. A kind of mage hunter, from what Bull says. Apparently, it's all part of a bigger plan called _Dragon's Breath_." Raising his hand to prevent Dorian from interrupting, he went on. "You can discuss it all with Bull in the morning. I don't understand it either. Anyway, we managed to sabotage their mining operations." A happy grin spread over his face. "Those _gaatlok_ explosions really are a sight to behold, you know. All their equipment went up in flames, and besides, half the mine is flooded now. They're not going to get any lyrium out of that place any time soon."

Dorian's head was spinning. "So… Does this Viddasala act with the support of the Arishok? Or has she gone rogue?"

"We don't know at this point." Alec looked grim. "If it's the first, we're effectively at war with the Qun now. Maker, Josie is going to kill me."

Dorian couldn't help but smile. "Josephine adores you far too much to resort to such drastic measures. Besides, if you prevail and succeed at preventing the whole thing, the Qunari will be quick to deny any official involvement anyway."

"And once again, that's just what Bull said." Alec chuckled wryly. "The two of you really should compare notes at some point. Maybe you can get to the bottom of this together."

"Maybe we can." Dorian reached out to cup Alec's cheek in his hand. "Don't worry. You're not alone."

Alec smiled at this, but the expression in his eyes remained oddly distant, and it pained Dorian to see it. _Something's wrong. If only he would talk to me._ " _Amatus_ …" he began tentatively.

But Alec was already getting to his feet again. "I should go. The others will be waiting for me to discuss what to do next. If you want, you can come by my quarters tomorrow, to talk things over. That is, if the healers…?" He trailed off, looking uncertain.

"I'll be fine." Dorian smiled encouragingly. "Really, I'm much better. I'll be there."

"Good." Alec turned to go. "Tomorrow, then."

* * *

One of his lieutenants brought the dog to him in the early morning. It was a pure-bred mabari, barely more than a puppy, slobbery and affectionate, and Cullen immediately fell in love.

"He must have an owner. Mabari aren't easy to come by, especially here in Orlais." He gazed into the large, soulful brown eyes, doing his best to hide how smitten he was.

The lieutenant shrugged. "He was on his own. Maybe someone bought him as an exotic diversion and then grew tired of him. He's a war-hound, not a pet."

Cullen nodded his agreement, though the dog himself didn't seem quite so clear on this point. He was the cuddliest mabari Cullen had ever seen, so bouncy and eager to please that it was hard to imagine him in battle, for all his size and strength. All attempts to teach him how to avoid attacks seemed doomed, since he insisted on catching every object thrown at him. And when Cullen gave in and began to rub his belly, he became positively ecstatic.

He spent most of the day out in the palace's courtyard with the dog, and for the first time since they'd come to Halamshiral, he wasn't bored. But by dusk, he was ready to call it a day, much as he'd enjoyed their training session. The dog willingly followed him to his quarters and dropped to the floor on the rug in front of the fireplace, giving him a last, grateful look before falling asleep. Cullen was pondering whether he should have an early night, when a messenger knocked on his door to tell him that the Inquisitor had returned.

They met in Alec's study, the Inquisitor and his advisors, gathered around his desk once more. And they were in much better spirits than last time. Even Cassandra looked satisfied, almost elated. When she saw Cullen, she smiled, that small, private smile he had come to love so much in the past two years. All through their meeting, while Alec and Cassandra told the story of their recent adventures in the Deep Roads, she remained close to him, so close that their elbows brushed against each other.

"And then we left," Alec closed with a weary smile. "We just about made it back through the mirror before everything collapsed."

"So you shut down their mining operation. Good." Cullen nodded in grim satisfaction.

On the other side of the desk, Leliana daintily cleared her throat. "Of course we still don't know what else they are planning. _Dragon's Breath_ , you said? Maybe you can find more clues behind one of the other eluvians."

But Alec shook his head. "We checked them all on our way back. There are only two more mirrors that we can reach, and they both lead to dead ends."

"A locked room. A cave. Plenty of demons and undead, but no trace of Qunari," Cassandra elaborated when Leliana raised a sceptical eyebrow. "There _are_ other eluvians, visible in the distance, but we can't get there, unless we learn to fly."

Alec yawned. "Well, on the bright side, we've just dealt the Qunari a serious blow. Maybe it will be enough to make them give up whatever they're planning." Cassandra snorted, and he smiled wanly. "All right. I don't believe it either. But there's not much else we can do at the moment, I'm afraid. Tell your people to be extra vigilant, Leliana. Any sign of Qunari activity and-"

"You will know about it," Leliana finished for him. "We will keep an eye out for anything unusual. And if-"

She was interrupted by a loud booming noise from outside that made the windows vibrate and the chandelier tingle.

Alec's head flew up. "Maker! That sounded just like…"

" _Gaatlok_." Cassandra had turned pale.

As one, they turned toward the window, only to see a glittering shower of pink sparks descend from the sky.

"Relax, everyone. It's just fireworks." Leliana's high, tinkling laugh made them all feel stupid.

Cullen exhaled slowly, feeling the tension draw from his body.

"How marvellous!" Josephine was already at the window, bouncing on her toes like an excited child. "Let's all go outside and watch!"

There was a murmur of assent and they made their way out to the balcony to watch the display. People were jostling each other for the best spaces near the balustrade, but Cullen was tall enough to see well even from the back, so he didn't have to join the fray. Cassandra must have thought along the same lines, because she was right before him, only an arm's length away.

Quickly, Cullen looked around. Everyone was staring up at the sky, wholly focussed on the show. It was too good an opportunity to miss. Taking advantage of the darkness, he stepped a little closer to Cassandra, carefully embracing her from behind. She hesitated for a heartbeat, but then she let her head sink back against his shoulder with a happy, little sigh. And it felt so natural, so perfect, to have her in his arms, to keep her warm and safe.

Above them, the fireworks turned the black night sky into a glittering kaleidoscope of colours, sparks raining down like precious jewels, creating pretty patterns against the backdrop of the scar left behind by the Breach. Flowers, stars, cascades of fire. Cullen swallowed hard, as he felt Cassandra take his hand and squeeze it. It was all so unreal, a stolen moment of romance amidst all the politics and intrigues surrounding them. He hadn't expected it, but if there was one thing the past years had taught him, it was that he couldn't afford to waste it.

He had wrecked his brain how to tell her, how to make it special. For hours, he had practiced in front of the mirror in his room, had tried to find the right words and the right tone. But suddenly, it was easy. Out here, in the dazzling light of the fireworks, with her body pressed to his, her scent surrounding him, it was no problem at all.

"Marry me." It was barely more than a whisper, but with her ear right next to his mouth, he didn't have to speak louder. "Please. I love you so much, Cassandra, and I… Will you marry me?"

A particularly spectacular combination of explosions drew a chorus of aaahs and oooohs from the assembled audience. Cullen waited with bated breath, until the clamour subsided.

Cassandra made a choked little noise, clutching his hand harder, and then she turned in his arms, raising her face to meet his eyes. "Yes. Of course I will."

"Right. Good." The wave of happiness rising inside him was almost too much to contain. "When do you think-"

"As soon as we can make it." Cassandra sounded completely matter-of-fact again, but her smile was bright enough to rival the fireworks. "Tomorrow night?"


	48. Chapter 48

The door fell shut behind them and they were alone. Just the two of them, husband and wife, joined forever. It was an overwhelming thought, and Cassandra was grateful for the chance to sit down on the edge of the big four-poster.

Cullen took off his gloves and tossed them on the nightstand. There had been no time to get a wedding gown fitted, so they had both simply worn their uniforms, much to Cassandra's secret relief. The small chapel had been a beautiful backdrop, though, with its high vaulted ceiling and its stained glass windows, and all their closest friends had been there. Alec, Leliana, Josephine, Dorian, Bull, Harding, Varric. The Inquisition's inner circle, the people who had been with them all through this crazy ride, the people they could trust.

"Are you happy, love?" Cullen knelt down at her side, taking her hand.

"I am." She smiled at him. "Very."

And it was true. As far as she was concerned, it had been the perfect wedding.

When Cassandra had suggested getting married at once, she hadn't wasted a thought on the where and how. It hadn't seemed to matter, and in the end, it hadn't been a problem. True, when they'd told the others, Josephine and Leliana had squealed with dismay. But Alec had just shaken his head and disappeared, with a determined gleam in his eyes.

He'd returned about an hour later with a triumphant smile on his face. "I have spoken to Vivienne. She won't be able to join us herself, but she has graciously allowed us the use of her private palace in Halamshiral's High Quarter for the ceremony and the ensuing celebrations." His smile had taken on a distinctly suggestive edge. "Including the wedding night."

Cullen had actually blushed at that, and begun to mutter that it wasn't necessary to make a fuss, but Cassandra had intervened at this point, too grateful for this unexpected blessing to be fazed by a little teasing. "Good. I'm sure Mother Giselle can be persuaded to officiate, but we will need two witnesses."

Alec and Leliana had volunteered immediately, and everything else had easily been taken care of. Less than twenty-four hours after his proposal, Cullen had placed a ring on her finger and spoken the words of the marriage ceremony. _I swear unto the Maker and the holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days._ And she had done the same in return. Cassandra had sworn many oaths in her life, and each one had been sacred to her, but this was the only one she was sure she would never regret.

"We should…" Cullen cleared his throat. "We should get undressed."

"Yes." A sudden flash of curiosity made her reach for the silk-wrapped bundle lying next to her on the bed

Right before they'd withdrawn from the partying that was still going on downstairs, Leliana had taken her aside and pressed it into her hands. "A present from Josie and me." The spymaster's deep, throaty chuckle had been positively indecent. "There may not have been time for a wedding gown, but this is more fun anyway. I'm sure you'll have a memorable night, my dear."

Cassandra began unwrapping the parcel, but as soon as she caught a glimpse of its contents, she froze in motion. "I think…" Swallowing, she glanced at Cullen who had turned away and begun to unbutton his uniform jacket. "I think I'm going to need a moment in private."

Cullen made a surprised noise, and she couldn't blame him. After all, it wasn't as if he'd never seen her naked before. But he didn't object and fortunately, the room's closet was big enough to allow her to change in there. There was a mirror, too, and when Cassandra caught sight of herself, she blushed all the way to the roots of her hair.

Lace. Black lace, covering most of her body, yet allowing tantalizing glimpses of flesh all over, hugging her curves like a caress, turning her into a siren, a seductress, a walking temptation. She had never felt so alluring before, never even thought of herself as someone men would dream of or fantasize about. Of course she knew that Cullen desired her, but that was different, part of his… regard for her, nothing more. But here, tonight, in this flimsy bit of fabric, she felt as if no one would be able to resist her, as if she could have any man she wanted. It was intoxicating.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the closet. Cullen had already undressed and slipped under the covers of the bed, but the moment he saw her, he sat up briskly, the sheet sliding down to reveal his bare chest.

"Sweet Maker, Cassandra!" He didn't say more, just stared at her, but the expression in his eyes was everything she could have hoped for: love; adoration; amazement. And desire, so naked and powerful that it made her shiver.

Slowly and seductively, giving him plenty of time to watch her, she walked over to his side and joined him on the bed. He didn't move, but his breathing sped up, and there was a tell-tale flush on his pale skin, all the way down to his stomach. And when she pulled aside the blanket, he was more than half-hard already.

Carefully, she arranged herself on his thighs, shivering when she felt his heat through the lace and bent forward to kiss him. The moment their lips met, he _growled_ , soft and low, and the sound went straight to her core. His hands came up to cradle her hips, and she closed her eyes, savouring his firm, possessive touch. _Yes_.

Leliana had been right. It was definitely going to be a memorable night.

* * *

"So…" Loosening his cuffs, Alec leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile that took in the remaining wedding guests. "Now that the two lovebirds have retired and the official part is over, what's the plan?"

His gaze lingered on Dorian, who swallowed involuntarily. Something was… _different_ about Alec tonight. Oh, he'd been perfectly sweet and charming all through the evening, and he'd fulfilled his duties during the ceremony to perfection. But there was an odd, provocative gleam in his eyes, something wild and unrestrained, and it was a bit unsettling.

Just then, Alec stretched, slowly and gracefully, like a big cat, and the sight of him made Dorian's throat go dry. Unsettling, yes, but also undeniably _hot_. Whatever it was that was causing Alec to behave like this, right now it was hard to worry too much about it. Not when most of Dorian's higher brain functions were suddenly taken up with detailed plans about what he would do to Alec once they were alone. Or maybe the hit on the head had impaired his reasoning more than he'd thought.

Alec laughed, a little too loud, and Dorian forced himself to relax. _He's probably just had too much to drink._ He wasn't the only one. Dorian had restrained himself in view of his recent injury, but the others had no such qualms. Varric's cheeks were flushed, and Bull's face wore a blissfully dazed expression. Even Leliana seemed to have loosened up.

"I know." Alec gestured toward Varric. "We still haven't had time to play Wicked Grace. Come on. We won't get a better opportunity."

There was a chorus of agreement, and they all settled around the table while Varric dealt the cards. Normally Dorian enjoyed a good game of cards as much as anybody else, but tonight, with Alec sitting opposite him, still exuding that air of blatant sensuality, he found it hard to focus. Varric won the first game, gathering up his winnings with a satisfied grunt. Alec, who had placed the highest bet against him, just shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

They chatted about this and that while they were playing, and the wine was still flowing freely. Alec lost again, and he kept losing, game after game, so steadily that Dorian was beginning to suspect he was doing it on purpose. A suspicion that was confirmed when Alec tossed the last few of his coins into the pot and then shrugged off his jacket, adding it to the pile.

"Looks as if _I'm_ the unlucky one tonight, Josephine." Alec favoured the ambassador with a smouldering gaze that left her more than a little flustered. "Let's see whether I'll end up like Cullen, shall we?"

Without the jacket, Alec looked… Dorian had to avert his eyes in order to keep himself from staring too obviously. Alec's pants clung to his thighs like a second skin, and his thin linen shirt had ridden up when he'd wiggled out of his sash, baring a strip of golden skin at his waist. More smooth skin was visible at the neckline of the shirt, left carelessly unlaced. If you added Alec's tousled hair and his moist, half-open lips to the picture, not to mention his posture, hips tilted invitingly, one leg carelessly thrown over the armrest of his chair… _Maker's balls!_ Dorian cursed under his breath. Alec wouldn't have looked out of place among the 'companions' offering their services in a high-class brothel.

A small voice kept whispering at him that it wasn't like Alec to be so obvious, but it was hard to care when he was so painfully, intensely aware of every move Alec made, every breathy sigh from his mouth, every low chuckle. He was not the only one either. Josephine clearly had a hard time taking her eyes off the Inquisitor, and even Leliana was nibbling speculatively on her lower lip while surreptitiously eyeing him from behind her cards.

Alec's boots soon went the way of the jacket, one after the other, and the heat in the room seemed to increase with every piece of clothing he shed. When he pulled his shirt over his head, baring his lithe, well-muscled body, the collective intake of breath was almost audible.

With a sigh, Bull folded his cards and got up. "I'm out. Time to call it a night, boss."

"Night, Bull." Alec hardly spared a glance at him as he left the room with Harding in tow. "Well, everyone? I'm ready for another round."

His eyes met Dorian's, and they were dark with arousal, the pupils almost drowning out the blue. "What about you?"

Dorian nodded, unable to speak. Leliana snickered, and Josephine reached for the cards with shaking hands. Varric sighed regretfully, but he shook his head and got to his feet, heading for the door.

It was just the four of them now, and none of them had much of an interest in the cards anymore. At least Dorian hadn't. It was too distracting, the way the muscles in Alec's belly rippled as he bent down to retrieve a card that had slipped from his hands, the way the candlelight danced over his hair and skin. No, Dorian wasn't thinking clearly anymore, and he doubted the others felt any different.

And yet, somehow Alec managed to lose again. He was already reaching for the lacings of his pants, when Dorian decided it was time to put a stop to this.

"Enough." He got to his feet, relieved to find he was still steady. "Come on, Alec. Time for bed."

Ignoring Leliana's amused smirk and Josephine's disappointed frown, he took hold of Alec's arm and dragged him up from his chair, just barely suppressing a moan at the feel of his silky skin. "Good night, ladies. We'll see you tomorrow."

Alec followed him willingly to the room they would share. Another perk of staying here, in what was essentially a private home, a place where the Divine could retreat from her duties and be herself. Dorian made a quick mental note to thank Vivienne later tomorrow.

As soon as they were alone, Alec freed himself from his grip, laughing softly. "I was beginning to wonder how long it would take you."

Dorian could have smacked him, just to wipe that smirk of his face. Then again, his body was advocating a completely different course of action. "Damn it, Alec! What's going on with you tonight?"

"Does it matter?" Tossing back a strand of hair, Alec looked at him from under long blond lashes, tilting his head to the side a little. "Admit it, you like it."

" _Like_ isn't the word I'd use." Dorian shuddered all over. "You… Maker, Alec, you've driven me crazy all night. And not just me. The others-"

"I don't care about the others." Holding his gaze, Alec took a step back, until he was leaning against the heavy, ornamented desk. Licking his lips, he slowly rolled his hips. "What are _you_ going to do about it?"

For a moment, Dorian's mind went utterly blank. When he came to his senses again, he realized that he had pinned Alec to the desk with his hips, holding him there while he was plundering his mouth with brutal ruthlessness. Alec was moaning helplessly, begging for more with his whole body, and Dorian had no intention to deny him. Without taking his mouth off Alec's soft, warm lips, he shrugged off his robes and made short work of Alec's pants. Within moments, they were skin to skin, hard and hot, gathered together in Dorian's hand.

And it felt good, so good, but it wasn't nearly enough. With a rough groan, Dorian turned Alec over and bent him forward over the desk, then dropped on his knees behind him, grateful for the thick, soft carpet. A small vial of oil had rolled from the pocket of Alec's discarded pants, and he eagerly picked it up, grinning at his lover's forethought. _He knew. He knew I wouldn't be able to resist him._ And really, it would have taken a saint to say no to what was on offer here: Alec's trim, taut body; velvety smooth skin stretched over hard muscle; all of him so willing, so full of graceful abandonment.

Dorian was so worked up that it took all his control to hold back. Taking deep breaths, he forced himself to take his time, to prepare Alec properly and make sure he was ready before he aligned himself and took what he'd been craving all night long. Alec was hot and tight around him, impossibly tight, and Dorian knew there would never be a better feeling in the whole world. They were both panting so hard that Alec's flanks were trembling with the intensity of it, and Dorian hadn't even actually _moved_ yet.

When he finally did, placing a calming hand on Alec's hip, everything else became meaningless. There was nothing but the heat building between them, no sound but their increasingly desperate sighs and moans, no room for a single thought or feeling except for the incredible closeness of their bodies. At some point, Alec grabbed his hand and wrapped it around his cock with a small, pleading noise, and Dorian was only too ready to comply. Within moments, their rhythm turned frantic. Alec cried out first, spilling all over the desk's polished surface, shaking with relief, and Dorian followed right after, biting down hard on his neck to stifle a shout.

"I love you. I love you so much." As soon as he could speak again, he whispered the words in Alec's ear, over and over again.

Alec's eyes were closed and he was still breathing hard, but there was a smile on his face, and at least some of the brittle tension appeared to be gone.

" _Amatus_?" Dorian's heart was so full he was struggling to find the right words. "Won't you tell me-"

"Shhh. It's all good." Twisting around in his arms, Alec kissed him softly on the cheek. "Let's get some sleep. I'm knackered."

_Sleep. Andraste, yes_. Only now did Dorian realize how exhausted he was. His head had started thrumming again and his eyes felt heavy as stones. With a weary nod, he allowed himself to be led off to bed.

* * *

It was an achingly beautiful day, and the gardens and courtyards at the Winter Palace were a brilliant kaleidoscope of colours, the garish brightness of the courtiers' silk gowns and jewels vying for attention with the natural vibrancy of the flowers and butterflies. With his throbbing palm hidden away inside his smooth leather glove, Alec could almost forget his troubles for a little while.

He found Cullen at his usual post, near the headquarters of the Inquisition's troops, but the Commander was not alone. A handsome mabari war hound, nearly fully grown, was lying belly-up at his feet, and Cullen was obediently rubbing its tummy.

When he looked up and met Alec's eyes, he smiled ruefully. "Another Fereldan trapped at the Winter Palace, it seems. I couldn't possibly leave him to that fate."

"So you've adopted him." Alec felt his lips twitch. "Or he's adopted you. Either way, he needs a name."

Cullen nodded. "I haven't decided on one yet. Normally, I'd say Brandel, or Calenhad maybe, but he's not really the type for a heroic name, I'm afraid."

The dog got to his feet, his tail wagging happily as he greeted Alec with considerable enthusiasm, going up on his hind legs to try and lick his face.

Alec laughed out loud. "I see what you mean. How about Nipper? Or Bouncy?" Gently, he scratched the dog behind the ears. It was impossible to stay gloomy in the face of such simple, sincere affection. "Yeah, I think Bouncy suits you."

"Then Bouncy it is." Cullen sighed. "It seems he likes you." There was the faintest hint of jealousy in his tone, and in that uncanny way mabari had, Bouncy picked up on it immediately.

Giving Alec's cheek a last, thorough lick, he dropped to his feet and went over to place his huge head on Cullen's knees.

"He may like me, but he clearly has chosen you." Alec smiled, but he felt more than a little wistful. "I remember when Slobber picked me, all those years ago. The kennel master brought him out with all his siblings. He took one look at me and just jumped in my lap, and that was that. Ah, he was such a cute puppy."

His beloved companion had passed away only days before they left for the Conclave, falling asleep on his pillow near the hearth and never waking up again. It had been a good, peaceful death, just what Slobber had deserved. But Alec still missed him.

"You ought to get a new dog yourself." Cullen's voice was kind.

But Alec shook his head, his hand closing into a fist. "No. I don't think-" He broke off, unwilling to put his feelings into words.

It wasn't something he wanted to admit, even to himself, but deep in his heart he doubted it would make sense to get another mabari. The pain in his left hand was getting worse, day by day, hour by hour. Soon, he would no longer be able to hide the agony he went through every time he used the Anchor. Soon, one of his friends was bound to notice, and he didn't want that, didn't want their pity and their concern, when none of them could really help him. Most of all, he didn't want to tell Dorian, didn't want to see the pain and worry in his beloved's eyes.

Alec was sure he'd done a good job of hiding it so far. But he was scared. More scared than he'd ever been.

 


	49. Chapter 49

Dorian didn't even know how long he'd been staring at the parchment, unable to make sense of what it said. His brain simply refused to accept what he was reading. He was still clutching the letter tightly when Alec walked in, looking flushed and excited.

"Dorian!" Alec didn't seem to notice his odd behaviour. "We finally have a new lead. One of our soldiers caught an Orlesian servant trying to smuggle in a gaatlok barrel. The guy was carrying a note. Look here: _The Viddasala can be found through a mirror near a bookcase_."

"Huh. No one in their right mind would keep a message like that after it'd been read," Dorian replied absent-mindedly. "It's most likely a trap."

"Of course it is, but who cares?" Alec threw back his head in a gesture of pure defiance. "If they are ready to face us, well, so are we. You're coming with us this time, right?"

" _Amatus_ , I-" Dorian swallowed hard. "I can't."

"Why? What-" For the first time since his arrival, Alec took the time to really look at Dorian. "You're trembling all over! And you're as pale as a sheet. What happened?"

Dorian forced himself to laugh, but it sounded hollow. "I got a letter from Minrathous. From the magisterium, no less." Unable to look Alec in the eye, he fiddled with the tips of his moustache. "It's funny. All this time I spent explaining to people that I'm not a magister, and now-"

"Show me." Alec took the letter from his hand. "They invite you to assume your seat in the magisterium and they send their best wishes and congratulations..." He gasped. "But surely this means that your father…"

"… is dead." Dorian finished grimly. "Yes. Murdered, most likely. He refused to meet me while I was in Quarinus, but Mae said he was in excellent health when she last saw him."

"Murdered! Aren't you a little quick to jump to that conclusion?" Alec frowned. "Why would anyone murder your father?"

Dorian shrugged. "Politics. Intrigues. My father is… He _was_ a powerful man. Of course he had enemies. There are those in the magisterium who wouldn't hesitate to have him removed if he stood in their way."

"Hmmm." Alec gave Dorian a long, searching look. "And now you will take his seat in the magisterium. Which means he kept you as his heir, even after that horrible scene in Redcliffe."

"I know." Dorian swallowed. "I hadn't expected that, to tell the truth."

"How are you feeling?" Alec carefully touched his arm.

"I…" Dorian closed his eyes. A sudden flood of memories threatened to overwhelm him. His father, eyes shining with pride as he mastered a particularly difficult spell. That same face, contorted with anger, when he'd refused to marry the wife that had been chosen for him. The flash of hurt in his father's expression when Dorian had brushed off his attempt at reconciliation in Redcliffe. "I don't know. I truly don't know."

Alec made a small noise and pulled him into a loose embrace. "Hey. It's okay."

"No, it isn't!" Dorian bit his lip, deep enough to draw blood. "He was my father, and… Maker, Alec, there was a time when I would have done _anything_ to make him happy. Anything. I loved him. I loved him so much. But sometimes love isn't enough. I learned that the hard way."

Alec didn't reply, just gently stroked his back in small, soothing circles. Dorian was grateful for his silence.

"When he tried that ritual, I… I was so horribly disappointed. I thought he cared for me, I thought he would understand, eventually. But he never did, and it _hurt_." The tightness in his throat was almost painful now. "I wish… But it doesn't matter now. All I can do is find his murderers and avenge his death."

"So you're going back." Alec's voice sounded flat.

"I have to, _amatus_." His mind was already busy working out what to pack, how to arrange the journey home. "I'm sorry, but-"

"No, it's fine. Nothing to be done about it." Alec appeared calm, almost fatalistic. "I understand."

"You do?" Dorian had expected more resistance, but really, it was a relief not to have to make the effort to convince Alec. "You know it's just temporary, right? Nothing can truly keep us apart."

"Of course." Alec looked sad, but that was only to be expected, wasn't it? "It's all good. I'll ask Josephine to make arrangements for your journey. Maybe she can pull a few strings. Just leave it all to me."

Dorian nodded, reaching for his hand. "Thank you, _amatus_. I-"

But Alec had already taken a step toward the door. "Don't mention it." Moments later, he was on his way out, head held high, back straight.

As he watched his lover leave, Dorian felt a faint sting of apprehension, but he chided himself immediately. Alec was a grown man, and he had faced dangerous opponents before. _He will be fine._

* * *

Back at the Crossroads, it was easy enough to find the mirror near the bookcase. But it was one of those they had seen from afar, on a floating island with no visible means of access.

Alec cursed when he saw it hovering in the distance. "Damn it. How-"

"This way." Cole winked at him, looking strangely cheerful, and walked straight toward the abyss separating them from the mirror.

"Cole! Even you can't walk on thin air!" Alec lunged after him, but he arrived a split second too late.

Cole had already stepped past the edge, and for one horrible, scary moment, Alec clung to the hem of his coat, fully expecting the worn threads to tear in his grip as Cole went down into the deep. Only, there was no edge. The path formed right beneath Cole's feet, as if the mere touch of his soles had called it into existence.

"Well, fuck me sideways and call me a sloth demon." Bull voiced Alec's thoughts with astonishing precision. "You sure that's safe, boss?"

"Probably not." Alec clenched his teeth and forced himself to follow Cole. The ground, if you could call it that, looked solid enough and it felt firm beneath his feet. Even so, it seemed crazy to trust it. "Then again we're on our way to fight a bunch of Qunari fanatics on their own turf. I wouldn't call that 'safe' either."

Cassandra just snorted, but she was right behind him, shield raised and eyes alert. It always made him feel better, knowing that she was there, that she had his back. Now, if only Dorian- But no. It was no use, thinking about his beloved. It would only distract him from what had to be done. And he couldn't afford a distraction right now.

With a little effort, Alec could even convince himself that it was for the best. At least, this way, he could spare Dorian some of the heartbreak when things came to their inevitable end. As if to remind him, the hurt in his palm flared up again. Quickly, he turned away to hide the pain on his face from the others.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, the mirror near the bookshelf led to the remnants of an elven library, torn apart by what had clearly been a cataclysmic event. And of course, seeing all those books floating around made Alec think of Dorian _again_. Instinctively, his hand went up to the magic crystal he was carrying on a chain around his neck, Dorian's parting gift. _Whenever you need me,_ amatus _._ Dorian had looked charmingly eager as he had demonstrated how to communicate with the help of the crystal. _Isn't this neat?_ Alec had smiled and promised to keep in touch.

He wouldn't use it, of course. It probably wouldn't work in the Fade anyway, and even if it did, he knew better than to torment himself by listening to Dorian's voice, warm and velvety and full of promise, when the owner of that voice was out of his reach.

"Alec?" Cassandra's harsh tone pulled him out of his wool-gathering. "Look."

A strange shape was hovering near the library's entrance, a bit like a wraith, but it looked broken and its aura flickered in the dead light. "Visitors. Patrons. Welcome. The halls are open."

Alec would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation, but there was something about the wraith that defied such levity. Whatever it was, it was old, and it carried an almost tangible aura of sadness and loss. He addressed it as respectfully as he could manage. "Who are you? What are you?"

"I am study. I am learning thirst. Come, know what has not been lost." The thing sounded… _eager_ , as if it was truly glad to see them.

Alec hesitated. They'd been expecting a battle, a final showdown with their opponents. They hadn't come here for some light reading, or for a lecture on elven history. Then again, Alec wasn't about to turn away a chance to learn more about this place and what had happened here. And maybe, just maybe, it would help them understand how and why the elves were involved in all this.

With a sigh, Alec settled on a piece of more-or-less steady-looking rock. Studying had never been his favourite pastime. "Go on, then. Tell me the whole story."

* * *

"So let me see if I’ve got this right?" Cullen leaned forward in his chair, taking one of Cassandra's hands between his.

She made a small, surprised noise, and he immediately worried that the gesture had been too possessive. True, they were alone, just the two of them in their newly assigned quarters, but he didn't want to appear like a barbarian, staking his claim in such an obvious manner. But to his relief, Cassandra didn't balk at it, even smiled at him a little. Cullen's heart beat faster. _My wife_. The thought was still new, but it pleased him in a way he hadn't anticipated. Still, they had more important things to consider now than their personal happiness.

"This place, this _library_ …" He cleared his throat. "It was part of the Fade?"

"Not quite." Cassandra looked about as uncomfortable with this kind of thing as he felt. "More like elements of our world and the Fade woven together, so that the elves could exchange knowledge, even across great distances."

"And it got shattered when the Veil was created." Cullen shuddered. "Which was Fen'Harel's doing. An elven god, who wasn't really a god."

"Yes. Apparently none of them were. Just powerful mages." Cassandra's lips were set in a thin line.

Cullen nodded. "And in creating the Veil, Fen'Harel separated our world from the Fade."

"So we were told." Cassandra shook her head. "I don't know what to think about all this, Cullen. If it's true, shouldn't there have been something in the Chantry's teachings about it? Somewhere, in the oldest writings? How could such an event go unnoticed?" She sighed, and for a moment she allowed her weariness to shine through, closing her eyes and touching her forehead to his.

"I don't know." Pulling back a little, he breathed a kiss on her brow. "I don't understand it either. But that's a discussion for a later time. Right now-"

"We need to focus on the matter at hand. The Qunari." Cassandra raised her head again, and her usual determined look was back in place. "When we found them and their leader, this _Viddasala_ … She made no secret of her plans to kill all our rulers and _set the common people free_. As if the Qun offered so much freedom!"

"But could she have done it?"  Cullen shrugged doubtfully. "Even with the eluvian network-"

"According to Leliana's agents, the Qunari had smuggled their barrels of _gaatlok_ into every single centre of government in southern Thedas." Cassandra shivered. "Imagine them all going off at the same time… _Dragon's Breath,_ indeed."

"Yes, it's a rather apt metaphor." It was Cullen's turn to sigh. "Maker! We'd have been completely at their mercy. We're lucky you managed to expose their plan in time."

"Yeah, well." Cassandra made a face. "It seems we can't actually claim credit for that. _Someone_ put that dead Qunari where we could find him. _Someone_ has been killing more Qunari everywhere we’ve been. I just wish I could be sure that _someone_ is really on our side."

"Any idea who it could be?" Cullen's own head was beginning to ache. _So many riddles and mysteries_. Some part of him envied Cassandra, who'd at least had the chance to kill a few Qunari. He rather longed for a simple, clear-cut fight himself. 

"The Viddasala claims he's an _agent of Fen'Harel_. She also seems to think he's somehow involved with the Inquisition." Cassandra snorted. "You'd think we'd have noticed. None of it makes sense. All I know is we need to stop her."

"And you will." Cullen put all his powers of conviction into his words. "As soon as you've rested and regrouped you can follow her to this place, what's it called?"

"The _Darvaarad_." Cassandra frowned. "Yes. We know the way and we have a keystone. But you know, I have a really bad feeling about this."

"It's going to be fine." She still didn't look convinced. Briefly, Cullen considered listing all the near-hopeless situations they had mastered in the past three years, but he knew it wouldn't help. _What she needs is a distraction_. "You know, there's one thing I regret about our wedding," he said lightly.

Cassandra's head snapped up. Yes, that had got her attention. "You do?" She sounded uncertain, though, and he hurried to put her mind at rest.

"Just the one." He got to his feet, pulling her up with him into a close embrace. "It was wonderful, all of it. But we never had a chance to dance."

"Cullen!" Cassandra shook her head in irritation. "What is this nonsense? Neither of us is much of a dancer. You sounded horrified at the mere thought when we were at the Empress's ball."

"At the thought of prancing around the dance floor surrounded by Orlesian matchmakers, yes," he corrected her, placing a finger lightly on her lips. "I didn't fancy putting on a show for everyone. But here, with you…" He pulled her even closer. "It's different."

"We have no music," she pointed out, but her tone had already softened a little.

"Not true." He shook his head, pulling her a little closer to the open window. "Listen."

Soft music was wafting up from the gardens, where the courtiers were still enjoying the balmy evening air, pipes and lutes intoning a sweet, melancholy ballad. Cassandra opened her mouth, as if to contradict him, but then she leaned her head against his shoulder and relaxed. He held her tightly and began to move, slowly and tentatively.

It was true, he wasn't much of a dancer. Courtly dancing hadn't been part of Templar training, and the country dances of his childhood were only a distant memory. He didn't know any steps or bows or fancy turns. But then he didn't have to. All he wanted, all he needed, was to hold her, to move in time with the music, to feel their bodies become one as they surrendered themselves to its harmonies.

Cullen didn't know how long they danced like this, cheek to cheek, her heart beating against his chest. He didn't know and he didn't care. When the music finally ended, he picked her up and carried her over to the bed, carefully lowering her onto the sheets.

"Cullen." Her hand came up to cup his cheek and he leaned into her touch. "I love you."

"And I love you." Bending down, he kissed her, slow and deep. "I love you so much."

 


	50. Chapter 50

"What is this place?" Cassandra glanced over at the Iron Bull. "What does _Darvaraad_ even mean?"

Bull sighed. His face wore that odd look he always had when someone asked him about the Qun. "It's hard to translate. There are cells within the Ben-Hassrath, led by Viddasala, who deal with the improper use of magic. If they have to seal off a site for safety reasons, it becomes _Darvaraad_. As to what they were doing here…" He pointed at the various mirrors scattered across the ancient fortress's courtyard. "It looks like a graveyard for eluvians."

"It's almost as if they collected them here. For research purposes maybe?" Cassandra glared at the nearest Qunari corpse. "Either way, they were guarding their secrets well."

"One more reason not to linger." Alec's expression was strained, and she noticed his left hand was clenched into a tight fist. "Come on. There's no time to lose."

Nodding grimly, she followed him further inside the fortress. Their opponents didn't make it easy for them. There seemed to be no end to the waves of attackers. More than once, Cassandra found herself thinking wistfully of Dorian's signature chain lightning spell as spears rained down on them and assassins appeared out of nowhere, vicious daggers in hand. Eventually they prevailed, but by the time they reached the inner chambers, they were all battered and bruised.

Trembling with exhaustion, Cassandra carefully uncorked the little vial she carried at her belt and downed the last dredges of restoration potion inside it. It helped, but she knew she was nearing the end of her strength.

"Are you all right?" Alec sounded worried.

"I'm fine." She did her best to smile. "I just hope and pray the worst is behind us."

"Pray." Wearily, Alec rubbed his eyes. "Yes. Now's the time to pray, I guess. Maybe the Maker will listen, if you put in a good word for us."

The Maker didn't listen. When they rounded the next corner, they found themselves in a room stuffed full of gaatlok barrels and various machinery. And through a stone arch in the back wall, they saw-

"Sweet Andraste. That's why they called their mission _Dragon's Breath_." Alec had grown deathly pale. "They have an actual dragon."

And not just any dragon. The beast, whose wings they could see flapping through the arch, was gigantic, a high dragon, fiercely beautiful and incredibly dangerous, despite the shackles it wore. How the Qunari had managed to get hold of it and keep it captive was anybody's guess. Cassandra was torn between admiring their courage and despising them for tormenting such a noble beast, but there was no time to make up her mind.

"You have come far enough, Inquisitor. No more." The Viddasala finally deigned to face them herself. _Good_. Cassandra had been longing to go up against her in battle.

But she was looking at Bull. "Hissrad. Now! _Vinek kathas_!"

Her command sounded so self-assured that for a split second, Cassandra actually feared Bull would obey it and betray them. But no. Whether out of loyalty to Alec or because of the other ties that bound him to the Inquisition, he stood firmly by their side.

With a contemptuous snort, he shook his massive head. "Not a chance, ma'am."

The Viddasala spit out another unintelligible curse and disappeared through a door at the back of the room, leaving the dirty work to her men, as usual. Anger lent them strength, and within minutes, the last attacker lay dead on the ground.

"So this is where the gaatlok came from." Dabbing at a gash on his forearm, Bull nodded toward the barrels stacked against the wall. "I'd wondered how they'd managed to produce so much of the stuff in such a short time. It's a fairly complicated process, you know. Takes ages. But if they've found a way to extract the dragon's venom…"

"We have to kill it. Now. Before they can make more." Despite her resolute words, Cassandra hesitated. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, and she felt a strong urge to spit.

"Right." Bull grinned toothily. "So what are we waiting for?"

_What indeed?_ Cassandra knew everyone expected her to go after the dragon with enthusiasm. _After all, I'm a Pentaghast, right? That's what we do._ But, Maker, she was getting so tired of this same old refrain. As if her ancestry somehow meant she had no choice but to go dragon hunting. Sure, they had killed dragons before. She knew they could do it. She'd even enjoyed the challenge in the past. But this was different. Cassandra had no desire to take part in this poor tortured creature’s suffering. Besides, without a mage, without a proper supply of potions-

"We're hardly in a state to fight it." Alec echoed her thoughts. "Maybe there's another way. You two, wait here." He motioned for Cole to follow him. “This calls for stealth, I think.”

* * *

Setting the dragon free had been more complicated than Alec had anticipated. The Qunari had put several safety measures in place, and he and Cole had had their hands full sneaking past both the dragon and his handlers to disable them all. But in the end, they had managed to open the gates and the dragon itself had taken care of any remaining resistance.

Watching it take off towards freedom, its huge leathery wings spread wide against the background of the moonlit sky, Alec felt a faint flutter of hope, the first one in days. Not for himself, not for the Inquisition, just a small irrational twinge of optimism that all was not lost yet.

There was little enough reason for happy thoughts otherwise. During their last meeting at the Winter Palace, Leliana had informed them that the gaatlok barrels had been smuggled in by the Inquisition’s own elven servants. Even if they were to expose the whole plot now, no one would thank them. In fact, everyone would put the blame squarely at their feet. Josephine had been utterly frustrated, and Alec tended to agree. It was painful to realize that there was no one they could rely on. The Inquisition, founded such a short time ago, with such lofty goals and noble intentions, was already corrupt, rotten to its very core.

Just like he himself was, it seemed. The pain in his hand had started to consume him. He could _feel_ the magic tugging at his bones, feel it spreading further and further up his arm. It was getting harder to manipulate the energy discharges, too. They had become powerful enough to deal serious harm to his enemies, which was good. But at the same time, he wasn't sure how much conscious control over them he could maintain. Either way, it would all be over soon.

And why shouldn't it be? With Dorian gone, the Inquisition compromised, everything he'd fought for tarnished – what else was there to do but make a final stand against their foes and hope that it would be enough?

The Viddasala's contemptuous voice cut through his thoughts. She was about to pass through another eluvian, and he was in no mood to listen to her taunts. Until a familiar name made him stop in his tracks.

"Solas? You're saying Solas was the mysterious _agent of Fen'Harel_?"

His mind was racing even as he got ready to follow her through the mirror. _No. Not an agent._ Suddenly, he knew, without any trace of doubt.

"Can it be?" Cassandra seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "Could Solas _be_ Fen'Harel? The Dread Wolf? But how-"

"I don't know. But we need to find him." Alec was shaking all over.

He wanted answers that only Solas could provide. And maybe, just maybe… But no, it was no use getting his hopes up. He was probably beyond saving now.

The mirror took them to a mountainside dotted with elven ruins. Despite the ravages time had wrought, or maybe because of them, the ancient buildings and sculptures looked achingly beautiful, all graceful arches and perfect lines. The only thing marring their timeless beauty were the petrified Qunari scattered all over the place. Solas was clearly not messing around anymore.

There were enough living Qunari left to make their progress cumbersome, but with the help of the Anchor's power, they managed to fight their way through the courtyards, even if they had to draw on their last reserves. Their final test came when they had to fight the Viddasala's pet mage, a Saarebas of such power that when he finally was vanquished, the others were at the end of their strength.

So was Alec, as a matter of fact, but he had no choice. With a weary nod at his faithful companions, he stepped through one last eluvian.

And there he was. _Solas. No. Fen'Harel_. No more ragged apostate robes. No more hiding his power. He petrified the Viddasala with a single glance, not even a wave of his hand.

They were alone, just the two of them, up here on the hill. The Dread Wolf of elven legends. A being of immense power, old as time. A god. And Alec Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor. A fragile human, for all his titles. A mere nothing in the eyes of the man before him. And yet…

There was no hatred in Solas' eyes, just compassion and an incredible amount of sadness. One look from him calmed the powers of the Anchor, so they could talk. Free from the raging pain, Alec took a deep breath, feeling his head clear.

"I suspect you have questions." Solas sounded just the same. Just like the slightly boring, fussy old guy who had spent his time collecting books and painting the rotunda at Skyhold.

Alec nodded. "Some of them have been answered already. You're Fen'Harel."

"Well done, Inquisitor." No, not the same. There was an easy arrogance in the elf's tone that hadn't been before. His posture was different, too, confident and graceful. It was all too easy to imagine him as a ruler, an aristocrat, a king among his people.

He would have to tread carefully. So Alec listened. He let Solas explain it all. Why he'd let Corypheus gain access to his orb. Why he'd decided to help the Inquisition for a while. Why he'd helped them uncover the Qunari plot. And other, older stories. How he'd come to be called the Dread Wolf. Why he had decided to banish the other gods, the Evanuris. _They killed Mythal_. There had been a hint of real pain in Solas' voice as he'd given his reason, beneath his air of amused remoteness. Had he loved Mythal, Alec wondered? Or had they been close friends, kindred spirits, soul mates? It had to have been a close bond, if he had created the Veil for her sake, cutting the elves off from the Fade, from all the wonders they had created, from the secret of immortality.

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep, while countless wars and ages passed." Solas paused for effect. He sounded like one of those heroic poems Dorian was so fond of. If the occasion had been less tragic, Alec would have been tempted to poke fun at him. "When I woke up in this new world I had created, where people had lost their connection to the Fade... It was like walking through a world of Tranquil." Solas' face wore a sneer of disgust. For all his histrionic attitude, he meant every word, Alec realized.

"We're not even people to you?" His throat felt tight.

"Not at first. Later, perhaps…" Solas shrugged. "It doesn't matter, eventually. I will save the elven people, even if it means this world must die." He sounded completely matter-of-fact. "The return of my people means the end of yours."

"And that's it?" When Solas didn't reply, Alec felt a bitter laugh rise in his chest. "Well, thanks for the castle, I guess."

"You're welcome." There was no trace of irony in the elf's voice.

Alec didn't know what to say. It seemed pointless to appeal to Solas' better nature. They had never been friends, never been close. Solas had no reason to listen to his pleas. And it would have been ridiculous to threaten him. Of course he'd do his best to thwart the Dread Wolf's plans, if he could, but-

The Anchor flared up again, saving him the trouble of coming up with an answer. Instinctively, he looked to Solas for help. "It's getting worse."

"Yes. I am sorry." Solas’ apology sounded utterly sincere. "It will eventually kill you. But I can save you, for now."

"Solas, please. You don't have to destroy this world." Alec felt tears rise to his eyes, tears of pain and despair. "And if you do, why let me live?"

Solas ignored his question. "Take my hand."

Grasping Alec's palm, he made an odd gesture with his other hand. "Live well, while time remains." And he was gone.

Alec didn't see where he went. The pain engulfing his arm was too overwhelming. From the corner of his eyes he saw the outline of his hand, almost hidden by the bright green light surrounding it, but he no longer felt it. He no longer felt anything. The world went dark.

* * *

Dorian was up before the break of dawn, eager to get to the harbour on time. He had spent the night in the little seaside town north of Lydes, in a shabby inn with a spectacular view of the ocean. All night long, the waves of the Waking Sea had been beating relentlessly in his ears, and the sound alone had made him feel seasick. Tomorrow he would set sail for Cumberland and then follow the Imperial Highway all the way to Minrathous. He would have much preferred to travel all the way by the land route, but avoiding the crossing would have meant a much longer and riskier journey, and he couldn't afford that.

The sooner he got home the better. Every day he wasted would lessen his chances to find out what had happened to his father, to strengthen his own position and to ascertain his family's future. He smirked at his own reflection in the mirror when he caught himself thinking in such terms. All his life he'd done his best to avoid the burden of his heritage, the responsibility that came with being the last of his line. And now… _Just wait. Next thing you'll be looking for suitable matches among the daughters of your enemies._

He snorted. No. Not that. Never that. Automatically, his hand went up to clasp the crystal around his neck. So far, Alec hadn't responded to his attempts to contact him, but that wasn't all that surprising. If he'd travelled by way of the eluvian network, there was no telling where he'd gone and whether the crystal's powers could even reach him. Not to mention the fact that he was bound to be busy, saving the world.

Dorian's heart constricted almost painfully at the thought. He should be there, helping Alec. But at the same time, there was no doubt that his filial duty was calling him to Tevinter. What was he supposed to do, torn between two conflicting loyalties?

Or maybe it wasn't all that complicated. Maybe it wasn't a sense of duty calling him to Alec's side, but rather an excess of passion. He missed his beloved already, he missed him so much: his body; his smile; his hands… Surely, it was no more than that. There was no need to worry. Alec would be fine without him. He had Cassandra, and Bull, and all the others. _No mage, though,_ a small voice whispered in his head. What if-

A sudden sharp knock at the door made him startle. "What is it?"

"A message for you, my lord. The runner said it was important you read it at once." The inn keep's slow, slurring tones did a poor job of conveying any kind of urgency, but Dorian was already tearing the letter out of his hand.

It bore the seal of the Inquisition, not the big official one, but the smaller version that Leliana tended to use. With shaking fingers, he broke the wax and unrolled the parchment. A few words, no more. _Return at once. He needs you._

He was on his way before the sun had crossed the horizon.


	51. Chapter 51

They told him he'd find Alec in his suite at the Winter Palace. It took Dorian a while to get there. As per usual, he lost his way twice in the labyrinth of corridors and state rooms, and when he finally reached his goal, he was trembling all over.

The Orlesian guard at the door made a half-hearted attempt to stop him, but one patented _I'm-a-dangerous-magister-from-Tevinter_ glare sufficed to make him step aside. Inside, it was dark and quiet. Alec was nowhere to be seen. _Kaffas_!

Dorian went straight for the bedroom, at the far end of the sumptuous suite of rooms. When he crossed the threshold, he made a face. The air was stale, and here, too, only the faintest ray of light managed to get past the heavy velvet curtains. _This needs to stop._ In one swift move, he pulled back the curtain and opened the window. The gust of fresh, cool air was more than welcome.

There was a stifled noise from the direction of the bed, and sure enough, this was where Alec had hidden. He was unshaven and dressed in a plain linen shirt. His eyes were all scrunched up and his hair tousled, but Dorian's gaze went straight to the source of all problems: Alec's left arm, hidden under the covers.

Two quick strides took him to the edge of the bed. " _Amatus_. What do you think you're doing?"

Alec glanced up at him, then let his gaze drop back to the sheet. Dorian inhaled sharply. The amount of pain contained in even that brief look was hard to bear.

"What does it look like?" Alec's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Go away. I'm not in the mood for company."

Dorian ran a gentle finger along his jaw. "Alec. Look at me."

He waited patiently until those beautiful blue eyes met his, before he leaned in for a kiss, soft and feather-light. Alec winced, but he didn't pull back, and Dorian decided to count that as a success.

"Let me see." Gently but decisively, he reached for the arm stump, hidden away under the blanket.

Alec resisted for a heartbeat, but then let him proceed with a resigned sigh.

It didn't look bad. Whatever magical means Solas had used to remove the hand, it had left neither wound nor scar. The arm simply… ended. What was left was covered with the same smooth golden skin he had so often caressed. Dorian lifted it to his lips and breathed a kiss on it. Again, Alec flinched visibly.

"Does it hurt?" Dorian's own heart ached in sympathy. "I can make you a potion, if you want."

"No." Alec shook his head apathetically. "It… Maker, Dorian, it was such a blessed relief at first, after the agony I'd been through. By the time we found Solas, it was so bad that I thought I'd die every time the mark flared up. For a moment, I was actually _grateful_." He laughed, but it was a small, bitter laugh. "I guess I still should be."

Dorian felt his grief almost physically. " _Amatus_. I should have been there. You should have taken me with you."

"True." The ghost of a smile hovered on Alec’s features for a moment. "We found an ancient elven library, you know? You'd have loved it. But really, there was nothing you could have done. The Anchor-" He broke off. "I just wish there'd been another way."

"So do I." Dorian placed another gentle kiss on the stump. "But we will deal."

Alec averted his eyes. "I don't know. I never realized how many things are hard to do with just one hand. Maker, I'm not sure I can get dressed on my own."

"You won't be alone." Dorian did his best to sound soothing.

"So you're not leaving?" A sudden flash of hope flared up in Alec's eyes.

Dorian had to close his eyes for a moment. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, to shake his head. "I'm sorry. I can stay a few days longer, but not more. But even when I'm not with you, we will find a way."

"I'm sure we will." Alec sounded tired and resigned again. "It's just-"

Another thought struck Dorian. "What about your bow?"

"What do you think?" The bitterness was back, this time in full force. "Varric said he'd write to Bianca. He's sure she can come up with some clever invention to help me, but even so, it may take years until I'm of any use at all in a fight. I'll never get my skill back completely, of course."

Dorian shrugged. "Who knows? Thanks to you, we'll have those years. All you need is lots of practice."

"Dorian!" Alec shook his head. "We're talking about archery here. Do you have any idea-"

"It's true, I don't know a thing about bows." Dorian shut him up with a decisive gesture. "But let me tell you a story. Indulge me."

Alec lay back with a resigned sigh. "Go on."

"When I was 12 or 13," Dorian began, "I was incredibly good at spellcasting. I don't mean to brag, but I could do spells others take a lifetime to master. My father had made sure I had an excellent staff, of course, and I'd spent hours practising with it. I loved that staff." He smiled nostalgically. "Then, one day, my father got me a new tutor. Said the old one had taught me all he could." Alec twitched impatiently, and he raised a hand to get his attention back. "Bear with me. This story does have a point. Anyway, the first thing my new tutor did was take away my staff."

Alec had clearly heard enough. "That's not the same!" He looked angrier than Dorian had ever seen him. "Are you saying-"

"Will you listen?" Dorian was getting mad himself. "He took my staff and told me that any mage worth his salt could cast spells without the help of a piece of wood. Then he left me alone to practice." He took a deep breath. Alec was listening, he noticed, but with a barely concealed frown on his face. "I was livid, of course. Then I started, with simple spells, wisps, lighting a fire, the like. At first it was a nightmare. I was as clumsy as a toddler learning to walk. I made the most terrible mess when I tried to conjure a box of chocolates. I cried and I cursed and I was desperate. But I persevered."

There was a faint gleam of interest in Alec's eyes now. "And then?"

Dorian kept silent for a while, then he raised his hand and quickly executed a complicated series of motions. A large rose appeared on his palm, and he presented it to Alec with a flourish.

"It took months, almost a year. But when I finally got my staff back, I realized I didn't really need it any more. Sure, it helps me to channel power. And when I'm out fighting demons, I'll take any help I can get. But doing magic without it…" He hesitated, unsure if he could explain it. "It feels kind of pure, more elegant and more refined than the staff. It's… me, in a way I'd never felt before."

Alec was quiet for a long moment. "You realize this analogy only goes so far?"

"Of course." With a sigh, he let the rose disappear. "You have lost a part of yourself, and of course you hurt. Of course you grieve. Of course you're angry. But please… Please don't lose sight of the good things in life. You're alive, and I'm so very grateful for that."

"Alive, and a useless cripple!" Alec stared down at his arm with such undisguised loathing that it broke Dorian's heart.

"Please, _amatus_. Don't do that." He pulled Alec in for another tight embrace, ignoring his stiff posture, willing him with all his heart to understand. "I've spent all my life hating part of myself. Please don't do that. There's no reason. You're worth more than your hand, more than your bow. I love you, more than life itself. You're perfect to me, just the way you are."

Alec sighed and didn't reply, but at least he had stopped resisting and the tight muscles in his back had loosened a little. It was a start.

* * *

Alec woke the next morning to find Dorian gone and Sera sitting at the foot of his bed, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. _Maker knows how she's managed to sneak in here._

When she noticed him looking, she offered a wide grin. "Heya. You okay?"

"Been better." He propped himself up into a half-sitting position, flinching when he overbalanced. It took him a moment to sort himself out. He hadn't felt so clumsy and graceless since he'd been a lanky, overgrown kid at the age of thirteen.

To his relief, Sera made no attempt to help him. "Well, at least Dorian's back. That's good, yeah? Stupid idea anyway. Why go back?"

Alec sighed. "He has only postponed his journey, Sera. He’ll be leaving for Tevinter soon. Now that his father’s gone-"

"Ugh." Sera grimaced in disgust. "He used to do such a good job, keeping all that magic rubbish to himself. Thought he was over it, you know. All that scary magister crap."

"It's complicated." Alec fumbled with the bunched up fabric of his shirt, cursing under his breath when it slipped out of his grip. It was hopeless, all of it. He couldn't even manage the simplest tasks. He was going to-

"Hey!" Suddenly, Sera was at his side, and her pointy elbow connected sharply with his ribs. "Stop moping."

"And why should I stop?" The vehemence of his reaction came as a surprise, even to himself. "It's not as if I have much to look forward to. Dorian is going away, the Inquisition is as good as finished-"

"So bloody what?" Sera shrugged. "Plenty of other things to do for big heroes like you. Let me see… Want to run some rooftops as a Jenny?"

"A Jenny? Me?" Alec raised an incredulous eyebrow. "I'm a _nob_ , as you're so fond of pointing out. And besides…" He lifted his arm stump, feeling his mouth settle into a bitter twist. "How am I supposed to run rooftops with _this_?"

"Pish!" Sera looked almost angry. "You're not a nob. You're a _friend_ , just like the others. _Friends of the Red Jenny_ , see? And as for your arm…" She snorted dismissively. "Widdle will come up with something. A nice hook, maybe? Might be handy up there. Look right scary, too."

"Widdle?" Alec frowned in confusion.

"Dagna." Sera rolled her eyes, as if it was the most stupid question ever.

"Ah." Alec nodded slowly. "And you call her Widdle, because…?"

"Ah, forget it!" Sera was actually blushing a little. "Anyway. She'll love it, you know? Fiddle around with metal and leather, maybe add some magic. It's going to be _wicked_! So… Are you in?"

"Of course I am. How could I say no?" _Shit_. His eyes were burning, and he couldn't cry, not in front of Sera.

Fortunately, she looked just as alarmed as he felt, and she was already retreating toward the door. "Right. Grand. See you around, then."

She had hardly disappeared, when there was another knock on the door. _What's going on here?_ He hadn't even had time to get dressed yet. "Come in."

The door opened a crack and a shaggy head peeked around the frame. "Inquisitor?"

"Blackwall!" Alec was too surprised to remember that he was supposed to call the man _Rainier_ now. "What-"

"Sorry to butt in so early, but…" Rainier sounded even more gruff than usual as he extended his hand toward Alec. In it he held a small wooden tool, with a beautifully carved grip and a wire loop attached on top of it. "I've brought you something. This should help with the buttons on your clothes."

For a moment, Alec was speechless. Clearing his throat, Rainier elaborated. "One of my men, back when I was still… you know. He'd lost his hand in a fire, and he had a thing like this. He claimed it was nifty, so I thought-"

Finally, Alec regained his ability to speak. "Thank you so much. I…" He swallowed. "I truly appreciate it."

Rainier nodded, looking pleased, as far as Alec could tell from what little of his face was visible behind the beard. "Right. I'll leave you to get dressed then." He was gone before Alec could say more.

The others dropped in at different times during the day. Josie, Bull, Cassandra, Cullen… Each of them found a reason to come by and talk to him, for a few minutes at least, and it meant more than he could say. Varric read him the newest chapter of his novel, asking for his opinion about the fighting scenes, whereas Leliana entertained him for more than an hour with the newest court gossip. And Vivienne sent a present – a set of finely embroidered linen shirts, the sleeves adapted to accommodate his arm. Cole didn't show up, but when Alec came back to his room after lunch, he found a neatly tied bunch of fragrant herbs on his pillow, exuding the most soothing scent he had ever encountered.

By the time Dorian returned at night, Alec was so emotional that he burst into tears the moment his beloved's arms wrapped around him.

"There, there." Dorian sounded worried. "Anything wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No."  Alec managed to shake his head. "I'm good. I really am." _For now, at least._

* * *

"All right, everybody. We have heard all the arguments, I believe. Now we need to make a decision." Alec still looked pale and tired, but he seemed to have overcome his apathy. In fact, there was a new steeliness to his tone that Cullen couldn't help but respond to.

His respect for Alec had only grown over the past two weeks, as he had witnessed the Inquisitor deal with the loss of his hand. Alec had been devastated at first, but he hadn't given in to despair. Of course, they had all done their best to help him, but in the end, it was up to himself to come to terms with it. And so far, he was keeping up marvellously. Some days had been worse than others, obviously, but on the whole, Alec seemed to have found new strength in the face of adversity. He'd taken it all in stride with quiet stoicism: the pain; the pitying looks; the hushed whispers; even Dorian's departure earlier today. Cullen was sincerely impressed.

Besides, Alec was right. The Inquisitor and his advisors had spent the better part of the day in Alec's study, discussing the future of the Inquisition, and they couldn't put it off much longer: One way or the other, they would have to determine what to do.

Cullen and Cassandra had passionately argued their point of view: By turning the Inquisition into the Divine's personal honour guard, they would retain enough power to make a difference, while at the same time taking the wind out of their opponents' sails. A peacekeeping force, non-threatening, yet still strong – surely no one could object to that.

Leliana and Alec hadn't agreed. They wanted the Inquisition gone. Alec was disgusted with the corruption in their ranks, and after all - as the spymaster pointed out with a sardonic smile - there were other, subtler ways to advance their interests. By disbanding the Inquisition, they would be free of the shackles imposed by an institution that had grown too large and too unwieldy, and at the same time they could get rid of spies and other undesirable elements.

Josephine had been torn between both sides, ever the diplomat. By the time the light outside was beginning to fade, they were effectively stuck in a deadlock.

Cassandra glared at Alec. "Are you really going to dismantle the Inquisition against our will? Maybe I should remind both of you that it was at Divine Justinia's express command that-"

"Cassandra." Cullen cleared his throat with an apologetic glance in her direction. "No one in this room has sacrificed more for the Inquisition than Alec. Whatever the merits of our respective positions, I think he has earned the right to decide."

"Thank you, Cullen." Alec closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts for a moment. When he opened them again, there was no room for doubt or uncertainty in his tone. "I deeply regret that some of you feel differently, and if there was a way to make everyone happy, I'd gladly take it. But there isn't. And I really do believe that we'll be better off working from the shadows, as Leliana has suggested. If we want to prevent Solas from destroying the world as we know it, we need to make sure he isn't watching our every step. We have to work in secrecy, relying only on people we can trust." He turned to face Cassandra. "I'm sorry, Cassandra. You know how much I respect your judgment. But the Inquisition ends today."

Cassandra nodded quietly. "As you say, Inquisitor." There was no trace of resentment in her voice, much to Cullen's relief.

"You will always have my blade, Inquisitor, whenever you need it." Cullen glanced earnestly at Alec.

"Thank you all. I couldn't have done any of it without you, you know." Alec sounded utterly sincere. "Josie, will you inform the Divine and the Orlesian and Fereldan ambassadors?"

Alec's right hand was trembling just the faintest bit as he shuffled a few papers around on the table, but at the same time he appeared relieved, as if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders. _Which is accurate, I guess_. Cullen felt a sudden surge of sympathy. _Not just_ his _shoulders either. We're all free now._

"Of course, Alec." Josephine's voice was full of warmth. "Anything else?"

"Not right now." Alec smiled sweetly at her. "Time to call it a day."

Quietly, they made their way to the door. The mood was sombre, but at the same time it felt good to have settled on a course of action. Together, they headed for the salon for a drink and a snack.

On impulse, Cullen placed his hand lightly on Alec's upper arm as they took their seats. "Where will _you_ go? Now that you're no longer needed here… Will you go back to Ostwick, to be with your family?"

"Maker, no!" Alec shuddered all over. "I couldn't possibly. No, I'll make my home in Kirkwall. Thanks to Varric, I have a townhouse there, and a solid income to go with it. As good a place as any for a retired Inquisitor, I guess." For a moment, he appeared terribly weary. "But before I claim my estate…" He raised his chin, and the determined look was back. "There's someplace else I need to go first."


	52. Chapter 52

"So this is it." Cassandra looked around the bare room for one last time, running her hand over the heavy top of the war table, now stripped of all the maps and papers that used to cover it. "This is where Justinia's left and right hand part ways."

Leliana laughed softly. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Cassandra. I know you've got your own plans for the future. And since they involve a certain handsome ex-Templar, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Maybe so." Cassandra felt her cheeks heat up, and cast about for a change of topic. "Alec must be well on his way to Vigil's Keep now."

Alec had gone back to Skyhold with everyone else, but he hadn't lingered long. After saying his goodbyes to everyone from his advisors to the scullery maids, he'd left with a small retinue. Many had cried at his departure, maybe because it marked the end of the Inquisition, maybe just because they'd miss him. He himself had seemed relieved to be free of his duties, if a little wistful.

"He's probably already there. In this weather and with a fast horse, he should have made good time." Leliana rolled up a few sheets of paper, carefully tying them together with a piece of string. "Anyway, they are going to love having him there for another visit. Knowing Megan, she'll find something to cheer him up. And I think Kirkwall will suit him, when he eventually gets there."

"Let's hope so." Cassandra raised an eyebrow as a thought struck her. "What are _your_ plans, if I may ask?"

"Ah, I'll do what befits a lady of my age and station and retire, breeding nugs and doing charitable work." Leliana smiled innocently. "Unless Alec needs my help, of course. I couldn't possibly deny an old friend a favour now and then, could I?"

Cassandra was torn between laughing and shaking her head in disapproval. "You never change, do you?" Clearly, Leliana wasn't ready to let go of her extended spy network. "What about your people? Charter and Harding, will they-"

"We will remain in contact, of course." For a second, Leliana dropped the mask, and her expression became cold and calculating. "We mustn't underestimate Solas, Cassandra. Already, elven servants are disappearing all over Thedas. If he's building an army, I want to be the first to know." The easy smile was back in place immediately as she packed up her belongings and headed for the door, holding it open for Cassandra to pass through. "Harding will stay with the Iron Bull and his Chargers. And Charter will settle in Denerim, I believe."

_So you'll have your eyes and ears in both Orlais and Ferelden_. Cassandra nodded, with a kind of reluctant respect. "I'm going to miss you all. I'm going to miss Skyhold."

The sun was shining in through a crack in the stonework, bathing the heavy flagstones in a soft golden light. Outside, birds were singing, and the noise and bustle of the courtyard echoed faintly in the distance. Cassandra had come to love the place. It had been a safe haven for so many, the heart and soul of the Inquisition's efforts. Yes, it hurt to leave it behind.

"Me, too." Leliana sounded quite wistful as well. "I liked it here."

At the Divine's behest, Orlais and Ferelden were going to share the fortress, situated on the border between the two countries. It was going to be occupied by a small contingent of forces from each nation, and the soldiers would have to work together in peace. _A challenge indeed._ Cassandra rather doubted the arrangement would work, but it was probably worth a try. The two former arch-enemies needed to learn to get along, if they wanted to deal with the unknown dangers that lay ahead.

"Who knows what the future will bring?" Leliana's words echoed her sentiment. "We may yet meet again."

"I certainly hope so." Cassandra inclined her head in farewell. "Take care, Leliana."

"You, too." For once, the spymaster's smile was genuine. "I wish you all the best, Cassandra. Whatever you choose to do."

* * *

Anders ran a careful probing finger over the arm stump, his touch so light that Alec hardly felt it. He appeared fascinated, and more than a little impressed. "This is an amazing feat of magic. I definitely couldn't have done better. Whoever did this must be incredibly powerful."

"You have no idea." Alec laughed bitterly, exchanging a look with Nate, who was watching the whole scene with a frown of concern.

Alec had arrived at Vigil's Keep around noon, and Nate had greeted him with a bear hug, while Carver had placed one large hand briefly on his back in a sweetly reassuring gesture. Both of them had seemed relieved to see him alive, and eager to hear all about the events at Halamshiral. They had talked animatedly over lunch, but neither of them had mentioned the loss of Alec's hand at all.

Nate had taken Alec to see Anders at the earliest opportunity, though. "Let him have a look, Alec. It can't hurt."

Alec had reluctantly agreed, even though he hated to draw attention to his disability. With a sigh, he pointed at the arm. "Solas removed all visible traces of the Anchor. He said it would kill me eventually, though."

Nate made a small, worried noise, reaching out to touch Alec's shoulder. His hand was warm and steady and Alec instinctively leaned into it.

Anders closed his eyes, focussing intently on the arm. When he opened them again, he shrugged. "Not as far as I can tell. _Something_ will kill you eventually. All men must die, as they say in Tevinter. But from the look of this, you have plenty of good years ahead of you. More than any of us, in all probability."

Alec bit his lip, suddenly embarrassed at this reminder of the taint the Wardens carried. The taint that would kill them eventually, the taint that meant they could never live a normal life. Compared to _their_ fate, his own future seemed positively bright. Neatly, he folded up his left sleeve again and buttoned it up, sparing a grateful thought for Thom Rainier. With the help of his buttoning tool, it took hardly any fumbling at all.

Megan's merry voice sounded from the door. "Alec? Come with me. I've got a surprise for you."

He followed her, grateful for the interruption. Megan led him to a part of the Keep he'd never been to before, past the archery range and behind the stables. As they passed a wide door, they were greeted by a chorus of barks. _The dog kennels._

"I got an unexpected message by raven last night." Megan's head was tilted a little to the side as she watched his reaction. "From Seeker Pentaghast and your Commander Cullen, asking me for a very special favour. One I'm only too happy to provide."

With a wide smile, she opened a small door to the left. A beautiful mabari bitch immediately squeezed through the gap to greet her, yapping and licking her hands enthusiastically. "Shhh, Jinx." Megan's face was full of genuine affection as she stroked the broad head. "The message said you'd lost your mabari a while ago and were in sore need of a replacement. Fortunately, my very own Jinx here had puppies a few weeks ago. Look."

Pushing the door fully open, she pointed toward a tangle of sleeping dogs in the corner. They had to be about eight or ten weeks old, just about old enough to be separated from their mother. _A lucky coincidence indeed. Or maybe not_. Things like that had a way of turning out exactly as they needed to, where mabari were concerned.

Going down on one knee, Alec took a closer look at the puppies, who had been woken by their arrival and were yawning and stretching. Their mother went from one to the other, touching each with her nose in turn and receiving eager licks in return. There was no way Alec could stop the wide smile from spreading all over his face at the sight.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" Megan sounded proud. "I assure you that you won't find finer dogs in all of Ferelden. My lovely lady here is of Highever stock, of course, and their father is King Alistair's Barkspawn, from the royal kennels." She coughed briefly. "At least I'm pretty sure he is. Jinx likes to have fun just as much as her mistress does, don't you, darling?"

Petting the dog's head, she winked suggestively at Alec. It was a fairly mild attempt at flirtation for Megan's standards, but it made him uncomfortable nevertheless. Alec liked Megan and he'd been attracted to her from the moment they'd first met, but the last thing he wanted was her pity.

"They're perfect, Megan." He tried to defuse the situation by turning his attention to the dogs. "I'd be honoured to take one of them home with me."

All six puppies were watching him attentively, ears cocked and tails wagging happily. They all looked strong and healthy, with glossy black and tan coats and dark, soulful eyes.

"Five females, one male." Megan pointed at the largest of the puppies. "There. That's the little guy."

The dog raised his head and looked at Alec, considering briefly, then got up and stretched before walking over to him at a leisurely pace. With a deep, thoughtful sigh, he placed one of his overlarge paws on Alec's thigh.

"Hey there." He smiled at the dog. "Nice to meet you, mate."

The puppy started to sniff him thoroughly, all over. He paid special attention to his left arm and the place where his hand should be. Alec felt his throat go tight.

"So, do I pass inspection?" He did his best to sound unconcerned, but he knew neither Megan nor the dog would be fooled.

The dog gave one short bark. Then he sat down heavily on Alec's feet, with his head in his lap, carefully arranging himself so that Alec could pet him with his right hand. Alec bent down to scratch his ears, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

Megan snorted. "Should have known it would be the boy for you. It figures." Her throaty laugh was accompanied by another suggestive look. "Still, you're not _completely_ immune to female charms, am I right?"

"No, but-" Alec cleared his throat awkwardly. "Megan, you don't have to."

"I don't have to what?" She frowned, clearly confused by his words.

"Flirt with me. Pretend you're still interested." He averted his gaze. "Damn it, Meg, I'm a cripple and I know it. You don't-"

"That is the biggest load of tripe I've ever heard, and I've attended several royal councils!" Megan's eyes were flashing fire. Gripping him by the chin, she made him face her. "I'm not _pretending_! What is this bullshit?"

When Alec didn't reply, she sighed deeply, letting her fingers trail gently along his jaw. "Look, I don't doubt this sucks." She made a quick gesture toward his left arm. "But you're alive, and that's what matters. And since you seem to worry about it so much, let me assure you that you are still gorgeous. Still insanely hot. Trust me, the only reason the three of us haven't dragged you off to our bed yet is that we think it wouldn't be fair to Dorian." A sudden grin lit up her face. "Though, really, it would serve him right for leaving a dish like you unattended." Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, in a blatant display of sensuality.

Almost against his will, Alec felt his pulse speed up. Still, he couldn't let this go unanswered. He had to come to his beloved's defence. "Dorian had good reasons for leaving. If he could-"

"Exactly." Megan's eyes were twinkling merrily. "The two of you love each other very much, Alec, and I'm not going to mess with that. But if it weren't for Dorian…" Her hand slid further back, to the nape of his neck, tangling briefly in his hair. Involuntarily, Alec shivered under her touch, and her eyes went dark. "You bet I'd do my best to convince you, hand or no hand. And that's just me. Nate…" She grinned when Alec's eyes widened at the mention of Nate's name. "Well, let's just say if _he'd_ heard you a minute ago, he'd already have you up against that wall to show you just how much he wants you."

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Alec was still trying to come up with a suitable answer when she broke the tension with a happy laugh. "So, what will you call him?" She indicated the puppy with a tilt of her chin. "He needs a name."

"I don't know." Plucking up his courage, Alec met her frank, open gaze. "What do you think of _Warden_? I think I need someone to guard me and have my back."

The dog snorted happily, and Megan laughed. "Seems _he_ likes the name, at any rate. But yeah, it suits him. He's a loyal little chap, and he'll watch out for you, as long as there's still breath in him." Brushing aside Alec's effusive thanks, she got to her feet. "Come on. Let's get back to the others. Nate will have my head if I keep you to myself for too long."

* * *

It had been a long and trying day. The conservative members of the magisterium had been in a particularly recalcitrant mood today, and not even Mae's dry humour had been sufficient compensation for the tedious hours Dorian had wasted trying to make his point. He was heartily glad once the door to his private apartments fell shut behind him, and he could rest and regroup with the help of a sumptuous dinner, a hot bath, and a good book. He was already in bed, naked and relaxed, idly leafing through a volume of Antivan poetry, when the crystal he wore on a chain around his neck started to glow and grow warm. _Alec_.

They had been talking every single night since Dorian's departure, discussing the day's events and trying to give each other some much needed support and encouragement. It helped to have Alec's point of view, though if Dorian was honest, all he really wanted was to hear his beloved's voice, to reassure himself that he was still there, still doing well, still _his_.

"Dorian? I hope I didn't  wake you up. I'm sorry I'm so late." Alec sounded different, less dejected and more animated the he had in weeks. "Megan and the guys kept me up for hours with questions about the Qunari plot."

Dorian smiled to himself. It seemed the company of the Wardens was doing Alec good. He'd guessed as much, which was why he had strongly supported Alec's plan to visit Vigil's Keep again. "You've safely arrived then?" was all he said aloud.

"Yes, of course. They all send their love, Dorian. And guess what? Megan got me a new mabari. He's such a cute little guy." Alec sounded so happy about the news that Dorian was glad his own pained grimace remained invisible.

"How lovely." He must have sounded less than enthusiastic, though, because Alec chuckled softly.

"Oh, come on, Dorian! I'll train him well, don't you worry. I'll make sure he won't offend your delicate Northern sensibilities." There was no anger in Alec's voice, just a hint of affectionate teasing, and it made Dorian inordinately happy to hear it. Alec had been far too serious lately.

"I miss you so much." The words left his lips of their own accord. "Maker, Alec, I wish-" The rush of frustrated longing was almost too much to bear. Hearing Alec's voice through the magical link, so bright and clear, as if they were lying side by side, affected him more than he'd thought. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to hold Alec, to ruffle his hair in gentle punishment for his teasing, to silence him with a kiss...  Unable to put his feelings into words, he groaned, deep in his throat.

Alec responded with a sharp intake of breath. "Yeah. Me, too." There was a faint rustling noise. "Care to tell me more?"

Dorian held his breath. Alec's voice had dropped to a deep, sensual purr, full of suggestion and promise. It was a clear invitation, there could be no doubt about it. It was also the first time since he'd lost his hand that Alec had made any kind of attempt to initiate intimacies. They had had sex, but it had been at Dorian's instigation, and the first time had been… not quite a disaster, but close. Dorian recalled it all too clearly: Alec's muffled curse when he'd lost his balance; his continued attempts to keep his left arm out of sight; his stubborn insistence that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't. Dorian had persevered, using all his skill and patience, and eventually Alec had forgotten his concerns for one brief, glorious moment, as he'd poured himself down his lover's throat. But the whole thing had been uncomfortable for both of them, and their subsequent attempts had been only marginally better. So if Alec was actually asking for more now…

"Dorian?" A small sliver of insecurity was already creeping into Alec's husky tones, and that wouldn't do.

"I'm here, _amatus_." Dorian made his voice as sultry as he could. "In my bed, thinking of you and wishing I could see and touch you."

Alec swallowed. "More. Please. What… What are you wearing?"

"Nothing at all." Dorian shrugged off his blanket, as if he could make Alec see him. "It's far too hot for nightclothes here. What about you? Will you get naked for me, too?"

" Give me a moment."  More rustling, and then Alec was back, sighing contentedly. "There. What now?"

"Oh, come on, Alec." Dorian could see him in his mind's eye, all bare and beautiful, his skin gleaming golden in the candlelight. "You're going to leave it all up to me? Give me something to work with. What are you doing?"

"Just… imagining you here." Alec sounded strangled. "Your hands on my skin. Your mouth on my cock."

"Ah, no." Dorian tsked reproachfully. "Not yet. I would never rush things in such a manner. My mouth on your _stomach_ , maybe, kissing my way down, tormenting you with the anticipation of more." Alec was moaning openly now, and Dorian smiled smugly. "Can you feel them, _amatus_ , those kisses? As light as I can make them, just tiny flutters against your skin, to drive you mad with want."

"You think I'd let you?" A rough edge was creeping into Alec's words. "You think I'd just lie back and let you play your games with me, without paying you back in kind?"

"Probably not." The mere thought of Alec's reaction sent a hot spike of want into his groin, and just like that, Dorian was fully hard. "So tell me… What _exactly_ would you do to me?"

Another gasp from Alec. "I'd pin you to the bed and kiss you, kiss you so hard…" He whined, and Dorian knew without being told that he'd taken himself in hand. "And then I'd lick and suck every inch of you, until you begged me to stop."

"Why would I do that?" Dorian laughed breathlessly, and he was no longer able to keep his hands away from his own aching cock. "Fuck, Alec, the mere thought of your mouth on me…" He thrust hard into his fist, while his mind provided an image of what he was really craving: Alec's lips, wrapped around him; the look in his eyes as he glanced up to gauge Dorian's response; the soft, popping noise when he let go for a moment.

"Dorian. I… I want you so badly. Your taste, your-" Alec was panting so hard he had trouble forming the words, and Dorian wondered how close he already was.

Was his chest flushed already, his body taut, his cock weeping as he neared completion? Dorian wanted to see for himself, he _craved_ the sight of Alec in the throes of lust more than he could put into words, for all his frantic babbling.

"I want you, too. Maker, Alec, I want _all_ of you, now. I want to taste you, to feel you, to hear you. Please, _amatus_ , let me hear you." Tightening his grip around himself, he moaned unrestrainedly, hoping Alec would be just as turned on by knowing what he was doing to him.

Alec echoed his groans, and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. "Please, Dorian. Just a little more, just…"

Yes, he was close, so close, and Dorian did his best to spurn him on, murmuring words of encouragement, praising him, coaxing him ever closer to the edge. Coherency was getting more difficult, though, with his own body wound so tightly he was practically vibrating. He almost missed the moment when Alec cried out, because right then, his own climax tore through him, with such force that it left him trembling all over. The sudden silence at the other end of the connection told him all he needed to know, though.

" _Amatus_?" As soon as he trusted his voice to obey him, he reached out for Alec again.

"I'm here." Alec sounded drowsy and replete. "Thank you. That was-"

"Perfect." Dorian finished for him. He was hardly able to contain the happiness bubbling up inside him. "I love you so much. Sleep well, Alec."

"You, too." Alec yawned. "Good night, Dorian. I love you."


	53. Chapter 53

"Well? What do you think? Will it do?" Cassandra was regarding him with bated breath, clearly uncertain what his reaction would be.

But Cullen had no trouble reassuring her. "It's perfect, love. Just what we need."

He meant it, too. The old manor house looked well-kept and solid, and the view across the valley was spectacular. True, the grounds were unkempt and overgrown, close to being reclaimed by the surrounding wilderness. But the mountain air up here in the Hunterhorns was crisp and bracing, and it would be good for his charges to have something to do. Hard physical work wasn't the worst way of dealing with lyrium cravings, far from it.

When he'd first mentioned his plan to open a kind of sanctuary for former Templars, a place where they could shed the habit or at least finish their lives in peace and dignity, Cassandra had looked surprised, but not unpleasantly so. She'd immediately begun to work out the practical details, and only days later she had come to him with the proposal to use this place. A distant cousin had left her the estate, in this remote corner of Orlais, far from the great cities and busy trade routes.

Cassandra had her own plans for the house, he knew. She wanted to build a new Seeker order, different from the old one, which had been founded on lies and deception. Something new, something better. Cullen didn't doubt she could do it, if she set her mind to it. Up here, there would be room for both of them to make their dreams come true.

Together, they explored the old house, picking a suite of rooms on the top floor as their own quarters. It was hardly luxurious, the furniture shabby and old-fashioned and the paint flaking in places, but Cullen didn't mind. It felt like home. By the time night had fallen, he'd gotten a fire going in the hearth, their bedrolls were spread on the ancient creaky four-poster, and a simple but hearty meal had been set out for them on the heavy pine-topped table, scrubbed almost white by generations of conscientious housekeepers.

"There's even a mabari kennel at the back." Cassandra was leaning in the doorframe, smiling at him in the dim light. "You can start breeding dogs if you want to."

Bouncy sat up at her words, giving her a long, thoughtful look before settling back on his haunches and beginning to vigorously scratch his ear. Cullen laughed. "We'll see about that. Later, perhaps, once we've sorted out the most important stuff."

"It's going to be a lot of work." Cassandra sighed, but when he extended his arm in a silent invitation, she willingly settled into his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder. "But we can do it, right?"

"Of course we can." He breathed a soft kiss on her forehead. "There's nothing we can't do, as long as we're together."

* * *

"I love the house." With a happy sigh, Erin sank into an embroidered armchair right next to the fireplace, surveying the room with a proprietary air. "A bit gloomy from the outside, but that's Kirkwall for you, right?"

She drew up her nose into a funny grimace that made Alec laugh. His niece had come to Kirkwall for an extended visit, to meet the parents of her most ardent suitor. Young Robb Cavin was a distant cousin of the seneschal, from a good but inconsequential family. He was a good-looking chap, friendly and easy-going. Alec liked him, but he doubted Erin would be happy living in the City of Chains. He knew better than to point out that fact, though. _Let her draw her own conclusions while she's here._

"Glad you like it." Alec joined her in the second chair, pouring a cup of cider for each of them. "Took me months to make the place habitable. It used to belong to a Tevinter magister who'd neglected the property for years. No one wanted to buy it, because people thought it was cursed or haunted, but Varric figured I wouldn't mind."

"And? Any ghosts so far?" Erin rolled her eyes dramatically, pretending to be scared.

"Nah." Alec shook his head. "We found a few skeletons in the cellars, and the remains of a rather dodgy looking lab, nothing more. Dorian took one look at the lab and recommended I burn everything in there. Which I did."

"Sounds like a wise choice to me." Erin shuddered all over. "Really? Skeletons? As in human remains?"

Alec shrugged. "A few. Maybe it really was the magister who killed them, or maybe they'd sought shelter down there at some point during the troubles and died of their injuries. It's hard to tell. In any case, I've seen worse. And we've given them a proper burial, so no worries. They won't disturb your nightly rest by rattling their bones in the corridors."

Erin laughed with him, but then she grew serious. "Don't you ever ask yourself why it had to be you? All of it? The mark, the fighting, all the horrors you've faced? And… this?"  She gestured at the arm stump.

"Oh, I used to. All the time, right after I lost the arm. _Why me, of all the people in Thedas?_ " Alec huffed in wry amusement. "But then I figured… Without all of this, without the Anchor, I would never have become what I am now. I'd still be plain old Alec Trevelyan, youngest son of a country squire at the back of beyond.  I would never have met all those amazing people, seen all those places, done what I've done. And I'd never have met Dorian."

Erin smiled at that, but the look she gave him was almost awed. "Oh, Alec. I've known you all my life, and I never had an inkling of how strong you are. I could never have dealt with such a situation." She gazed down at her own small hands as if she was trying to imagine them gone.

"Of course you could have." Alec favoured her with his best stern glare. "If you had no choice, you would handle it, just as I have. You are a lot stronger than you think, pumpkin. Besides…" He sighed deeply. "I'm not all that strong either. You've only seen me on my better days. Trust me, there were others, especially at first."

He remembered them all too clearly, those days, and even worse, the nights, when he'd lain awake for hours, crying, railing against his fate, cursing the day he'd gone to Haven in the first place. Oh yes, there had been times when it had all seemed too much to bear, all those pitying looks aimed at him, the morbidly curious questions, the small daily struggles… Alec shivered at the memory, and Warden, who had been lying quietly at his feet, raised his head and whined softly, as if to ask him what was wrong.

"It's all right, you big baby, I'm fine." Gently, Alec petted the dog's head before meeting Erin's worried gaze. "Sometimes I still hate it. There are still days when I wallow in self-pity, because there's so much stuff I can't do any more, so many things that are awkward and cumbersome and exhausting. But then again…" He shrugged. "I keep telling myself that at least I'm alive. I've survived all the shit life has thrown at me so far, and that's not something to sneer at."

Erin actually snorted. "Yeah, I bet Dorian thinks so, too. You're going to see him soon? In Minrathous?"

Alec nodded. "Yes. It's been a while since I last made the trip, and I miss him. Besides, I've got a big surprise for him."

Erin tilted her head to the side, pondering his words. "Ah, I think I can guess. That's going to be interesting, you know. I wonder how he'll react."

"So do I." Alec sighed again. "Let's wait and see, shall we?"

* * *

The whole day had been filled with pleasant anticipation, ever since Dorian had heard Alec's voice through the crystal in the early morning. _I'll be with you come nightfall._ Just a few hours.

The happy tingle had tided him over, helped him through yet another tedious session of the magisterium, listening to old Prycis droning on about Tevinter's bygone glory. Maevaris had shot him a knowing glance when she'd seen his expression. He rather hoped no one else had noticed.

But now, as the servants announced the _Comte de Sombrerue_ , his heart beat so hard it seemed his ribcage was about to burst. It had taken him ages to get used to Alec's new title, bestowed by his Grace, the Viscount of Kirkwall, also known as their friend Varric. No longer the Inquisitor, no longer Ser Trevelyan. _Still Alec, though. My Alec. My love._ They hadn't seen each other for far too long, and Dorian ached for his touch, for the warmth of his lips, the brightness of his smile.

That smile was at full strength when Dorian entered the vestibule, and it took all his control not to pull Alec into his arms immediately. Of course there couldn't be any such displays, not in front of the servants. Later, in the privacy of his room-

"Dorian." Alec grasped his arm in a manly handshake, grinning all over. "It's good to see you. Look what I've brought you."

A boy stepped from the shadows behind him, slim and blond and maybe eight or nine years old. Dorian frowned. The first thing he noticed about the child was an almost uncanny resemblance to Alec. The same bright blue eyes, the same thick hair, the same posture even, graceful and a little provocative. A flutter of uncertainty filled his belly. Surely, Alec would have told him long ago if-

The boy shifted a little, trying to hide his hands, and everything else was driven from Dorian's mind when he _saw_. In a quick, fluid movement, he was on his knees before the child, grabbing his wrist. Tiny sparks were racing along the sweaty little palms, and the child was trembling with the effort of trying to suppress them.

"Shhh." Dorian met the boy's eyes calmly and made a quick gesture, breathing softly on his palm.

The sparks coalesced into a tiny wisp, a minuscule creature of the Fade. It settled in the child's open hand with a bored yawn. Wide-eyed, the boy stared up at Dorian. Then a happy grin started to spread across his face, and once again, he looked so much like Alec that it made Dorian's heart ache.

"What's your name?" He did his best not to stare at the boy too obviously. He didn't want to appear creepy.

"I'm Corin." The boy bounced over to Alec to show him his hand. "Look what he did, Alec! Isn't that neat?"

"What _you_ did," Dorian amended, smiling involuntarily when the kid's eyes widened even further. "Would you like some honey cakes, Corin? Valeria here can take you to the kitchen." He nodded at a servant girl, who gave the boy an affectionate pat on the shoulder and took his hand with a firm, no-nonsense attitude. The wisp disappeared with an annoyed squeal.

The kid glanced back at Alec once, but relaxed when he nodded. His eyes wide and curious, Corin allowed himself to be led off. Dorian gestured for Alec to follow him to his study, where they would be undisturbed.

As soon as the door fell shut behind them, Dorian turned to face his lover. "Who is he?" He dreaded the answer, but-

"My sister Kenna's youngest. What?" Alec's eyebrow shot up, but he was grinning maliciously. "Did you think he was mine?"

"The thought had crossed my mind. And don't pretend that wasn't what you wanted me to think. He's your spitting image." Dorian exhaled slowly, feeling the tension drain from his body. "But tell me: When did he first show signs of magic?"

"About seven or eight weeks ago." Alec's face had turned serious. "Kenna and her family live near Kirkwall, and she messaged me immediately. She didn't want to part with Corin, but it was this or the Gallows. Now that Vivienne has restored the Circles to their former glory..."

"Ah, our dear Divine Victoria. So very sure she knows what's best." Dorian sighed. "You realize the boy shows incredible promise? With the amount of power he wields already, he will need guidance to keep it under control, someone to teach him, someone to help him understand what he's doing." He shook his head, laughing softly. "I haven't seen so much raw talent since I was a boy."

"I suspected as much." Alec looked down at his right hand. What was left of his other arm was carefully hidden away under his embroidered sleeve. "That's why I brought him to you." He raised his head, suddenly looking young and vulnerable, much as he had when Dorian had first met him. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but… Can he stay? I'll help you look after him, of course, and-"

" _Amatus_." Rolling his eyes, Dorian stepped closer, finally allowing himself to touch Alec's cheek, to feel the rasp of his stubble under his fingertips, to breathe in his scent. The rush of feeling that came with it nearly made him come undone. "Don't be an idiot. Of course Corin can stay. I'll take good care of him, I promise."

" _We_ will." Alec placed a calloused finger on his lips. "I won't leave it all to you. Besides, this will give me another reason to come and see you more often."

"Do you need one?" Dorian let his voice drop deliberately, just to see Alec shiver in response. "Apart from my charm and beauty?"

"You know I don't." Alec sounded rough, as he pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I'm glad to hear it." He inhaled deeply, moaning at the feel of Alec's body pressed up hard against his. "Did you miss me, in your cold and lonely exile?"

"Dorian." Alec bit down on his earlobe, breathing faster. "If you don't shut up now, I'll make you."

"Ah, those barbaric Southerners. Always with the threats." Dorian pretended to be scandalized, but the words died on his lips when Alec's hot mouth found his.

He missed the kissing most of all when they were apart. Everything else, too, of course, but he knew how to take care of himself, and he could always pretend it was Alec's hand on his cock when he closed his eyes and didn't think too hard. But the kisses, Alec's kisses, the velvet softness of his lips and the small noises he made, the warmth of his hand on Dorian's neck… There was no substitute for that, not in all of Minrathous, and he'd missed it so much he regretted having to pause for air. Alec moaned incoherently and pushed him back against the desk, attacking his bare throat now.

"Careful. It would be hard to explain bite marks." Dorian knew he sounded less than convincing, probably because he was so hard even his clothes couldn't hide it.

"I don't care." Alec was shaking with need, fumbling impatiently with the fastenings of his robe. "I want you. Now."

"Your wish is my command, _amatus_." Quickly, he untied the fastenings, baring his body to Alec's touch.

Alec's coat and breeches came off next, and then Dorian was running his hands up under the loose shirt, scraping his nails over flat nipples, relishing the way Alec's muscles rippled under his touch.

He was in good shape, thanks to regular exercise under Kihm's watchful eye. The trainer had followed Alec from Skyhold to Kirkwall, where Alec had set up a workshop for him in the basement of his house, in a room protected by various shield spells. Dorian didn't approve of Kihm's relaxed attitude toward bombs and his experiments with elemental essences, but it couldn't be denied he had plenty of experience when it came to dealing with missing limbs. Alec's shoulders were as strong as ever, his stomach flat and taut. Just looking at him made Dorian's mouth go dry.

"We need to be quick." Alec sounded breathless. "Corin will probably come looking for me sooner or later."

Dorian shook his head. "Valeria will take good care of him. And she has a veritable horde of younger siblings. I bet he's playing with them already, and they're going to keep him busy for a while. No need to worry." The boy was an intriguing topic, but right now, Dorian didn't want to hear about him. He had other things on his mind. "Come to bed."

Alec complied eagerly, and m.oments later they were all over each other, hands and mouths seeking out the spots guaranteed to make the other squirm with delight. Dorian had spent hours fantasizing about what he would do once he got his hands on Alec again, but as always, the reality was far more intense than anything he could have imagined.

When Alec's hand found its way between his legs, teasing behind his balls in a mute question, Dorian moaned enthusiastically. "Alec. Yes, please."

Yes, this was what he wanted, what he _needed_ tonight: Alec's fingers, slick with oil, spreading him open, thrusting deeper, stretching and twirling; the look on Alec's face, both tender and demanding, as he watched him like a hawk, trying to gauge when he would be ready for more. And finally, Alec's deep throaty moan, when Dorian got impatient and pushed him on his back to straddle him, lowering himself down onto his cock as quickly as he dared.

They paused for a heartbeat, both of them trembling all over with the intensity of it. To be together like this, so closely joined, not a hair's breadth between them, to feel Alec twitch and pulse inside him, while his chest was heaving with laboured breaths… Dorian was sure there wasn't anything better in all the world. Until he began to move and the sensation of Alec's cock sliding in and out of him drove all conscious thought from his mind.

He came without a hand on his own cock, came just from Alec's quick, shallow thrusts inside him, or maybe from the sheer excitement of having his beloved here with him again. Alec's eyes widened when he saw him, and his whole body went taut as he, too, reached his peak, gasping and shaking all over.

They clung to each other for a little while afterwards, despite the stickiness, unwilling to let go. When they finally rose to get cleaned up and dressed, Alec smiled at him, letting his eyes wander all over his bare body. His gaze was so full of love that Dorian could _feel_ it, like a physical caress. "You know, sometimes I still can't believe you're mine."

Dorian cleared his throat. "I can assure you the feeling is quite mutual, _amatus_. Now, come on. Let's not keep the boy waiting."


	54. Chapter 54

The sun was about to set and its rays were bathing the valley in soft, golden light, like a scene straight out of a romance novel. Cassandra paused for a moment in the doorway to enjoy the view: the majestic, awe-inspiring peaks of the Hunterhorn Mountains in the background, the rolling hills capped with dark green pines and firs, the well-tended meadows surrounding the house. She would never tire of the timeless beauty of the scene before her, not even after spending nearly three years up here.

With a yawn, she stretched, working the kinks out of her back. "Maker, I'm so exhausted. I guess I'm just not cut out for this kind of work."

Hugh, her second-in-command, chuckled at her words. "Don't be so hard on yourself. We made good progress today."

They had spent all afternoon locked up in her study, working on the Order's new statutes. Formulating the rules and regulations of the new Order of Seekers had turned out to be a daunting task. Since writing and composition were not skills that had ever come naturally to her, Cassandra was sincerely glad to have Hugh's assistance.

Hugh de Lacy was a former Templar who had spent most of his life in the Circle at Hasmal, until Knight-Commander Brycen had decided to join the Inquisition with all his Templars and the mages in their charge. He had been a fierce warrior in his time, but he was no longer young, and he no longer craved the excitement of battle. He also came from a long line of court officials, which might be part of the reason why he had a significantly higher tolerance for the more tedious aspects of their work.

"You think?" Cassandra raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "Well, if we did, it's only thanks to you."

"Nonsense." He gave her a warm, fatherly smile. "But maybe you need a break. The new recruits need someone to put the fear of the Maker into them. Why don't you take a day to spar with them for a change?"

"Maybe I should." She smiled back. "Good night, Hugh."

"Good night, Cassandra." He headed upstairs, while she crossed the courtyard in search of Cullen.

She found him sitting on a bench outside the stables with Ser Mallorick, talking in a soft voice to the old man. Mallorick had been too far gone to attempt lyrium withdrawal when he'd joined them. Despite their best efforts, they hadn't been able to do much about his continuous mental decline, but at least they could keep him clean and well-fed and stave off the worst of the paranoia by giving him small, controlled doses of lyrium. Nowadays he spent most of his time lost in dreams of his glorious past, reliving ancient battles and talking to friends who were long gone.

When he saw her approach, Cullen got to his feet and left Mallorick to his memories. Bouncy, who had taken a liking to the old man, remained at his side, listening attentively to his mumblings and enjoying the belly rubs he got in return. Later, when darkness fell, the mabari would guide Mallorick to his room and watch over him until he'd fallen asleep.

Cullen and Cassandra walked back to the house in companionable silence and headed for their quarters. The window had been left open, and Cassandra quickly closed it against the evening chill.

Cullen stepped up behind her, placing a warm hand on the small of her back. "Long day, love?"

She nodded, sighing deeply, but at the same time she was smiling. It was impossible not to. "And you?"

"Long, but good." He embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Together, they gazed out over the yard. "Remi is doing much better. And I think we can reduce Adelisa's lyrium dose a little further. Actually, things are going a lot better than I ever expected them to. If it wasn't bordering on blasphemy, I'd claim Andraste herself has given us her blessing."

"Well, maybe she has." Cassandra shrugged. "It's a worthy cause. Why wouldn't she?"

"Why indeed." Cullen laughed, but he sounded self-conscious. "They're all doing so well, you know. It's hard, and they struggle, but so far no one has given up- I'm so proud of them."

"You should be proud of yourself." Ignoring his protests, she twisted around to place a quick kiss on his lips. "Yes, you should. You are such a source of strength to them, all of them. As you are to me."

"And you to me." Cullen swallowed once, but his eyes were shining with joy. "Cassandra. I love you so much."

He kissed her, slow and gentle, and she melted into his embrace. "I love you, too."

Her heart was bursting with happiness. This life they'd built together – it wasn't perfect, and some days were harder than others. But their love kept growing, as they faced the challenges of each new day together. And that was all she'd ever wanted, all she'd ever asked for.

Neither of them noticed the shadowy figure in the wide-brimmed hat crossing the yard, and if anyone else did, they forgot about it immediately. But all over the house pain was eased and nightmares were driven away as the silent spirit of compassion warmed them all and gave them peace.

And Cole was happy.

* * *

"Magister Maevaris sends her greetings, _domine_." The young servant girl inclined her head politely. "She says she'll gladly join you and the Inquisitor for dinner tonight, and she's looking forward to your company."

"Thank you, Antonia." Dorian sent the girl off with a quick gesture and turned back toward the window facing the gardens.

Alec and Corin were out there, practicing with their bows in the shade of the tall old trees surrounding the central fountain. It was still just about cool enough to spend time outside. Later, after lunch, the windows would be shuttered against the sun, and everyone would settle into a pleasant daze while they waited for the midday heat to pass.

Dorian had acquired the sprawling country estate, as far south as one could possibly move without abandoning civilization altogether, as a place to spend the summer months when the magisterium was not in session. Up here, it was a tad cooler than in Minrathous, and far less crowded. Though the latter had become almost a moot point now that most of the Lucerni had decided to follow their leader's example and shack up here for the summer. Even Mae had bought a villa here, just down the road, though she'd teased him no end about _this quaint rural fashion_ he'd inspired.

No matter – the place was charming, if a little rustic, surrounded by vineyards and orchards, with butterflies swarming in the sunlight and cicadas singing all night. The buildings were old but solid, surrounded by lush lawns and shady colonnades. And most importantly, it was closer to Kirkwall, and Alec had readily agreed to spend his summers here.

A gust of laughter from below suggested that a shot had gone astray, and sure enough, Alec's voice carried over soon after, raised in the unmistakable cadence of the patient teacher, explaining what had gone wrong. Not that Corin needed a lot of correction, as a rule. Alec had spent hours at the range with the boy, whenever he was around, and all that persistence had definitely paid off.

Proudly, Dorian looked on as Alec raised his own specially made bow and hit the target dead centre on his first attempt. Dagna and Bianca had experimented for months to come up with the perfect construction, until they'd finally declared themselves content with the result, and Alec had been overjoyed when they'd presented him with the finished bow. Corin, not to be outdone, immediately followed up Alec's shot with one of his own, only narrowly missing the bull's eye.

Watching the two of them, so happy and relaxed together, Dorian felt his chest contract almost painfully at the thought of having to let Alec go again at the end of summer. _If only he'd agree to move here for good._ They had talked about it, especially after Corin had come to stay with Dorian.

But so far, Alec had always refused. "I love you more than I can say, Dorian, but I need my own life. I need something to keep me busy. Over here, I'd never be anything but your lover, your companion. In Kirkwall, I've got the Jennies, and my estate, and Erin. I'm my own person there." Alec had looked sad, but determined, and Dorian had to admit he had a point.

 _He's still a stubborn Southern bastard_. Dorian chided himself immediately for the thought, however. They had three long months before them, months full of laughter and happiness and companionship. And even then, they would make time to meet again as soon as possible. Josephine had invited them both to the Montilyets' estate in Antiva City for the fall, and of course Dorian and Corin would spend Satinalia at the Trevelyan family home. Still, sometimes Dorian couldn't help but wish that Solas had left two of his eluvians with them. _It would make things so much easier._

" _Domine_?" A discreet knock on the door tore Dorian out of his musings. His secretary coughed softly. "The crate of books you ordered just arrived from Vyrantium."

"Take them straight to the library." Turning away from the window, Dorian didn't bother to hide his smile at the thought of unpacking his treasures. "I'll be there in a minute."

Dorian wasn't in his study when Alec looked for him there, and not in the dining room either. He finally found him in the library, carefully sorting a stack of newly acquired books and putting them away into the shelves.

* * *

"I should have known you'd be here." He really should have. It was always either the lab or the library with Dorian. Alec picked up one of the books and glanced at the title: _The Far Cliffs of Kirkwall – a Book of Poems_. He rolled his eyes. "Did you have a good morning?"

"I did, yes." Dorian smiled down at him from the ladder he'd used to reach the upper shelves. "Look at this!" He held up yet another book. "A first edition of _Verses of Dreams_. I've been trying to get my hands on one for ages."

"Amazing." Hiding his grin, Alec carefully steadied the ladder with his right hand. He would never share Dorian's enthusiasm for rare books and poetry, but seeing his lover happy made him happy, too. "Will you join us for lunch?"

"Of course." As Alec had intended, Dorian ended up right in his arms when he stepped off the ladder. "What about the two of you? Did you have fun?"

"The kid had a blast." Alec brushed a kiss against Dorian's cheek. "He very nearly beat me in our last practice round. Sera won't believe how much progress he's made." He rather looked forward to telling her. No doubt several Red Jenny missions in and around Kirkwall would be awaiting him by the time he returned.

"Corin is really talented, isn't he?" Dorian sounded as proud as if he himself had handled the bow.

Alec nodded. "He has a keen eye and steady hands. Such a pity he's a mage. He'd make a really good archer."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "So? Just because he is a mage does not mean he cannot be an archer, too. He is not defined by just the one thing. Just as you were not defined by being an archer, _amatus,_ or by the mark you wore."

"Wasn't I?" Alec glanced down at his left arm with a small, wry smile. "I'm never quite sure."

"No." Dorian shook his head decisively. "You are so much more, and you always have been. And I love everything about you." There was no trace of doubt or uncertainty in his voice.

"Dorian." Alec's throat suddenly felt tight, and he pulled Dorian closer, close enough that their foreheads touched and they could gaze into each other's eyes. "You…"

"Ah, no! I turn my back for two minutes and the two of you are getting mushy again!" Corin sounded so genuinely indignant that his words drove them apart immediately. "Come to lunch. I'm starving."

"Probably not quite yet." Dorian's tone was dry, but when Corin wasn't looking, he took hold of Alec's hand again, squeezing it tightly. "Come on, _amatus_."

Alec returned the pressure, grinning at Dorian behind the boy's back. As a rule, Corin had no problem with their unconventional family. Since Dorian had formally adopted him the year before, he had enjoyed all the perks of being the heir of House Pavus to the full, and he loved both Alec and Dorian dearly. But Corin was at an age where he found every display of emotion embarrassing. _Well, that will change soon enough._

As they followed Corin inside, Dorian and Alec exchanged a look full of love and understanding. Neither of them had expected they would end up like this when they first met, but here they were. Friends, lovers, parents of a sort.

And so much more.

* The end *

**Author's Note:**

> Many hugs and thanks to the wonderful suilven, who once again has heroically taken on the task of betaing one of my stories. :)


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